Emma's eyes fluttered open, her gaze adjusting to the dim light of the hospital room. She stretched her arms, feeling the familiar ache in her back from sleeping in the uncomfortable chair beside Adrian's bed.
She turned to face him, her heart skipping a beat as she took in the sight of his pale, motionless form. The steady beep of the machines monitoring his vitals was the only sound in the room.
"Good morning, Adrian," Emma whispered, her voice barely audible. She reached out to brush a strand of hair off his forehead, her touch gentle. "It's me, Emma. I'm here."
Adrian's eyes remained closed, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. Emma's gaze lingered on his face, her mind replaying the memories they had shared before the accident.
The sound of the door opening broke the silence, and Emma turned to see a nurse entering the room. "Good morning, Emma," the nurse said with a warm smile. "How are you holding up today?"
Emma forced a smile, her eyes returning to Adrian's face. "I'm okay," she lied, her voice cracking. "Just waiting for him to wake up."
The nurse nodded sympathetically. "We're all rooting for him, Emma. He's a fighter."
Emma nodded, her eyes welling up with tears. She knew Adrian was a fighter, but the days were turning into weeks, and the weeks into months. How much longer could she hold on to hope?
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