When Justin woke up, the dim light of sunset was streaming through his hospital room window. Emily hadn't moved an inch and was watching a crime show on mute with the captions on. She noticed he was awake and beamed at him.
"Oh, good. You're up! I'll be right back."
She pried his arm off of her and not-so-discreetly ran to the bathroom inside of Justin's private room. A small chuckle escaped from his lips—the first one in over a month. If she needed to go to the bathroom so badly, why hadn't she just gotten up? Was she really so concerned about waking him?
"How are you feeling?" Emily asked cheerfully when she came back. "You slept for about fourteen hours."
Justin gaped at her in horror. "You stayed glued to my side for fourteen hours?! I'm so sorry."
Belatedly, he realized his throat was feeling better. It was still dry but no longer felt like it was being stabbed. That was nice.
"Hey, you can talk again! That's great!"
