Enzo Romano stood motionless in the dimly lit room, his eyes fixed on the sleeping form of Jessica. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast gentle shadows across her face, accentuating her delicate features. The doctors had assured him she would wake soon, but for now, her peaceful slumber gave him a rare moment of vulnerability.
He approached the bed, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. Sitting gently on the edge, he reached out, his hand hovering just above her cheek, not quite touching.
"Jessica," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, "I know you can't hear me, but there are things I need to say. Things I'm not sure I can tell you when you're awake."
