I stirred awake to the insistent beeping of medical machinery, a sound that felt both foreign and oddly familiar.
As my eyelids fluttered open, I was greeted by a stark, white room bathed in harsh fluorescent light. The overwhelming scent of antiseptic hung in the air, sharp and clinical, tugging at the edges of my awareness. It took several moments for my surroundings to come into focus, and as I blinked against the brightness, a heaviness settled in my body.
Raising my hand, I gingerly touched my face and winced as pain radiated from my broken nose—every nerve ending aflame with a reminder of the trauma I had just endured.
The weight of realization crashed over me like a wave: I had narrowly escaped death, and a surge of gratitude bubbled up within me. Thank you Lord for sparing my life!
Turning my head with a slow, deliberate motion, I noticed a small IV drip attached to my arm, its clear tubing snaking towards a bag hanging beside my bed, constraining my movements.
"Hey," a voice called out, pulling my attention away from the pulsating ache within me. My heart sank as I beheld Roman, sitting in a chair not far from my bed. His expression was inscrutable, locked in a complex blend of emotions I couldn't decipher.
He rose gracefully and made his way toward me, each step fluid and confident, his presence commanding yet unnervingly familiar.
"Do you want me to call the doctor?" His voice was deep, resonant, and it seemed to vibrate through the sterile room.
His gaze was fixated on me, momentarily drifting to my broken nose, where I caught that fleeting hint of remorse again—only to have it extinguished as soon as it appeared.
"I'm good," I murmured, waving my free hand dismissively. Roman nodded, turning to the side and reaching for a glass pitcher of water. As he poured it into a cup, the sunlight streamed through the window, glinting off his veiny hands, making even the simple act look captivating. My mind was spinning— he had the nerve to show kindness after everything?
After filling the cup with water, he extended it toward me. I grasped the glass carefully, our hands nearly brushing against each other—a connection that sent an electric jolt coursing through my spine, leaving me breathless. Roman immediately withdrew his hand, as if the brief contact had shocked him too. I glanced at him, repulsed, and brought the glass to my lips, sipping slowly before returning it to him.
"Thank you," I said softly, feeling drained and leaning back against the pillows, the coolness of the fabric a small comfort against my pain.
Just then, the door swished open, and a young doctor strode in, flanked by a couple of nurses. His eyes sparkled with warmth as he approached, and he flashed a gentle smile that eased some of my anxiety. "How are you feeling now?" he inquired, his voice calm and reassuring, like a balm to my frayed nerves.
"I'm fine, thank you, doctor," I managed to reply, finding solace in his presence.
He nodded, taking a moment to assess me. "You should avoid getting that injured area wet; otherwise, it could lead to significant complications. I'll prescribe some medication, and if you follow the treatment plan closely, you should heal up quickly." I smiled gratefully at him, silently vowing to comply with his instructions.
Shifting his focus, the doctor turned to Roman, the air thickening with unspoken tensions. "To be honest, I'm quite surprised she survived the hit. From that distance, anyone else would likely have perished. Thanks to you for performing CPR; it made a world of difference."
At the mention of CPR, my heart raced. "Wait, what?" I interjected, my voice rising in disbelief as I glanced between the two men, my anxiety suddenly palpable.
The doctor tilted his head, a playful glint lingering in his eyes while Roman fixed me with an indifferent stare, one brow arched high. "What is it, my sweet patient?" he teased, almost mockingly.
"You just said… he gave me CPR," I stammered, an incredulous point directed at Roman. How could he have done that? My mind raced with frustration and confusion. Why had he stolen my first kiss instead of Julian? Why had fate twisted so cruelly? My glare was punctuated by a flurry of unresolved emotions aimed squarely at Roman, who merely raised an eyebrow, his expression fierce yet unreadable.
"He did," the doctor affirmed, and a suffocating rage ignited in me, my fists curling tightly at my sides, trembling with fury.
"I'd prefer to die instead," I blurted out, the words spilling forth in a mix of defiance and despair. This time, the doctor chuckled softly, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes, before he patted Roman on the shoulder and exited the ward.
Eventually, I found myself ready to leave. As I stepped into the cool evening air, I was greeted by the profound stillness that enveloped the night. The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving a backdrop painted in deep blues and purples, and time was already creeping toward 8 PM. I knew the walk back to my hostel would take a good hour, but I relished the thought of a quiet journey. The streets glimmered under the soft glow of streetlights, laughter drifting through the crisp air from nearby gatherings.
As I ambled down the sidewalk, absorbed in my thoughts, the sound of tires on asphalt pulled my focus. A sleek vehicle pulled up beside me, and I glanced over to find Roman behind the wheel, the dark glass of his car lowered, revealing the stark contours of his profile, the light catching his jawline in a way that was both intimidating and strangely attractive.
"Get in," he demanded, the command firm and unyielding.
I scoffed at his audacity and quickened my pace, unwilling to yield to his insistence. I had no intention of accepting a ride from him, especially after what had transpired. But he was relentless. The car trailed alongside me, and when he rolled the window down again, annoyance etched into his face, I felt a fresh wave of defiance rise within me.
"I don't have all day to spend here," he growled, his dark eyes swirling with impatience.
My heart thudded with irritation. "You should have thought about that before you threw that ball at me." My tone was sharper than I intended, but the words were out before I could rein them in.
I stepped cautiously toward the car, the weight of my hesitation palpable with each stride. As I finally settled into the plush leather seat, I found myself enveloped in a comforting embrace. The interior exuded a sophisticated scent—a mix of polished wood and a hint of something sweet, perhaps from an air freshener, which lingered heavily in the air. Roman pressed down on the accelerator, and the car surged forward with surprising grace, the engine purring like a contented cat as it navigated the road with authority. I stared out the window, the world outside becoming a blur of colors and shapes, my thoughts tangled in uncertainty while he remained resolute, his attention firmly fixed on the road ahead.
Moments later, the car glided to a smooth stop right in front of the dormitory. I glanced at my watch, surprised to see that I had arrived a few minutes earlier than I had anticipated.
"Thank you," I uttered, the words slipping out more out of obligation than genuine gratitude, my heart racing slightly as I fumbled with the door handle. Before I could make my escape, Roman's voice sliced through the silence like a sharp knife.
"Wait," he commanded, a tension lacing the air between us. I turned to him, my brow furrowing in confusion. Why wasn't he letting me go? Shouldn't he be relieved that I was finally getting out of his car?
He stretched out his arm, presenting a sleek, sophisticated smartphone, its glossy surface reflecting the faint glow of streetlights. The screen illuminated and revealed the dial pad, the numbers shimmering as if beckoning for my attention. "Your contact," he instructed, a subtle intensity fueling his request.
"Why on earth would you need my number?" I replied, my tone tinged with disbelief as I raised an eyebrow, skepticism bubbling to the surface.
"Do you always have to be this stubborn?" His eyes pierced through me, sharp and unyielding, revealing the frustration brewing beneath the surface of his calm demeanor.
"I'm just being cautious," I countered, my voice steady as I met his gaze. "I have no desire for unnecessary texts or calls, and if you're worried about my well-being, then you can stop right there. I promise I'm perfectly fine."
The moment my words settled in the air, I noticed the flicker of surprise cross his face, a testament to the impact of my directness. I had hit a nerve.
With an awkward inclination in my head, I decided it was time to leave. I pulled the door open, carefully ensuring it didn't slam shut, and stepped out, the cool evening air rushing to greet me. I closed the door behind me with gentle resolve, feeling the residual tension of the moment linger in my chest. Stepping away from the car, I made my way toward the dormitory, determined to keep my eyes forward and not look back.