I blink in an effort to adjust my eyes, unable to make sense of the unfamiliar, off-color ceiling that’s in need of a layer of white paint. I wince as another wave of sharp, throbbing pain hits the side of my head, forcing me to close my eyes again.

Two more minutes.

That’s all I need to recover from the pain.

Several minutes pass, yet the pain doesn’t subside.

The sound of humming and whirring keeps piercing through my eardrums. Every sound feels like a sharp knife is piercing my skull open. Every flutter of my eyelids feels like cement is about to dry them close. Every thought feels like a truck is hitting me over and over again. As I lie with my eyes closed, trying to make sense of what’s happening to me, I realize my thoughts might not even be my own.

Voices are overlapping. Somewhere, a child’s crying. And then a woman’s voice, soft and low, soothing. I latch onto her voice like it’s my beacon of light.

“You need to wake up.” Fingers, soft like butterflies, touch my arm, my face. “Please, Kade. Please. I need you. I love you. I want you, but more than that, I need you to wake up. If you leave, you’ll leave my heart in pieces and it won’t ever heal.”

My heartbeat hastens, not at hearing my name, but at the way she says it…hurt, disappointed.

I’m the source of her pain. I could take it all away.

If only I could wake up. If only I could remember what happened.

Did I hook up with her, then dump her? Because that’s the only reasonable explanation as to why she’d be crying at my bedside.

She makes me feel like a no-good bastard with only his own interests at heart.

“I wish you could hear me.”

The urgency in her voice scares me. As if something terrible is about to happen and it’s all my fault that I don’t wake up to stop it.

I force my mind to remember what happened…but nothing comes.

My mind’s a black canvas, all color and images drained from it.

It’s pathetic.

I am pathetic. Useless. Trapped in this endless loop of pain.

“Even if you can’t hear me, I want you to know that I love you. I love you, Kade Wright. I don’t know when it started. I don’t even know why, but I know that I love you and I can’t imagine being with anyone but you.” She lets out a shaky breath.

I realize with dismay that she is crying.

“People say you can choose to fall in love with someone if you want, but I didn’t just fall in love. I fell into you. Into your soul. Into your body and mind. I don’t just need someone to hold me. I need to know that you’re alive and well. I would do anything to see you smile. I need you to make it, so please, wake up for me. If not for me, then do it for your family. I could never forgive myself if you didn’t.”

Desperation.

Her voice is filled with it and I realize she isn’t blaming me. She’s blaming herself. But she can’t possibly have done anything wrong. There’s too much love in her voice, too much longing, that it’s hard to imagine she might be the kind of person who’d inflict pain upon others.

My pulse thuds as I force my eyes to open. My body feels drenched in cold sweat from the effort. The pain hits me hard—harder than ever before—but strangely it becomes bearable.

I blink against the bright light.

It’s the same off-color ceiling. No one’s painted it yet, meaning not much time could have passed since I last saw it.

The throbbing inside my skull increases as I focus on the blurred images around me. I’m lying on a bed in what looks like a hospital room.

My throat is dry, the metallic taste making me want to puke. There’s a glass of water on the bedside table but my arms feel too heavy to lift.

I turn my head to the side and glimpse the small shape of a woman.

She’s sleeping in a chair with a book clutched to her chest. There’s a blanket crumpled at her feet, and her features are relaxed, as though she’s been asleep for a while. But her face is pale and dark circles frame her eyes, as though even sleep hasn’t been quite able enough to wipe away her worries.

She’s so beautiful I forget to breathe, and memories begin to play inside my mind.

Vicky.

She’s here.

What the hell happened? Why can I remember her but not why I’m in the hospital, surrounded by whirring machines?

I take in the bouquet of flowers on the table, the iPod station, the bag on the floor next to her feet.

She’s wearing slippers and her nails are painted a soft shade of pink. A jacket is draped over the back of another chair.

She looks like she’s living here.

“Vicky.” My voice is barely more than a whisper, but it’s enough to wake her, though. Her eyes fly open and she jumps up, disoriented for a moment.

Her gaze turns to me and shock passes over her face.

“Oh, my God.” She dashes for one of the machines and presses a button before turning back to me.

“Kade.” Her steps are slow, measured, and there’s hesitation in her eyes, like she’s afraid she might be dreaming. “You’re awake.” She pauses to take me in. “Do you know who I am?”

“It would take a whole lot more than an accident to forget you, Vicky.” I try to smile but even that’s too much effort.

She stares at me. “You remember.”

“I do. I think I even got the name right.”

Finally getting my attempt at infusing humor, she laughs and a tear rolls down her cheek. I wish I could get up and wipe it away.

“You remember me.” She leaps onto the bed, throwing herself on top of me as she settles into my arms.

I inhale her scent and moan slightly. Good thing some parts of me are still working the way they should be.

“You have no idea how much I missed hearing your voice.” She pushes up on her elbow and places a soft kiss on my lips. “You were asleep for so long I thought you wouldn’t make it.”

I frown, unsure what she’s talking about.

“Please don’t ever go back to sleep. Promise me. We’re all scared of losing you.” Her voice chokes up.

“I must have taken a bad fall on those stairs.” I suddenly remember that part. The stairs were slippery and I stumbled, right before getting into the car that was supposed to take me to the airport. I don’t remember the fall, but that must be it.

“Stairs?” Vicky looks at me, confused.

“I tripped.”

“Kade.” She hesitates. “You didn’t fall down the stairs. You had an accident.”

An accident?

I don’t recall any accident, not even a fragment of it. But then I don’t remember how I got here either. I only remember my last night with Vicky. Our last kiss. My promise to her. The goodbye.

As far as I remember I never got in a car. Or did I?

My mind’s blank, but it feels like I’m missing something. The gaps are there, waiting to be filled.

“You said I was asleep. For how long?”

She doesn’t reply.

“Vicky,” I prompt.

“Ask me another time, when you’re better. It doesn’t matter anyway. All that’s important is that you are awake now.”

“How long?” I push up on my elbows, ignoring the nausea settling in the pit of my stomach.

“Don’t.” She pushes me back down onto the bed gently. I don’t try to fight her. I can’t. My body’s too weak for that.

“Tell me.”

Fear shimmers in her eyes.

“You know if you don’t tell me someone else will. I’d rather hear it from you,” I prompt.

She looks at me for a few moments, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “You’ve been gone for weeks.”

Her hand moves to her abdomen, and her gaze grows distant. The swelling of her tummy is prominent enough to notice. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before.

I smile bitterly, realizing she doesn’t mean weeks. Months have passed.

The world has moved on without me. Including her.

I can’t blame her.

A woman as attractive as Vicky, and with such a strong need for love, couldn’t possibly stay single. She needs someone by her side.

“Kade,” she whispers. “Please say something.”

I stroke her cheek gently. “I envy the guy you’re with. That’s all there is to say.”

I close my eyes before a wave of pain engulfs me—but this time it’s my heart that’s hurting.

A door’s thrown open and feet shuffle in. The bed moves before I’m being lifted up.

It all seems familiar.

I can hear Vicky’s voice, but it might just be a thought or a memory.

Blackness crashes over me again. I realize, it’s a different kind of darkness. My perception has been sharpened, my senses heightened, hovering in a state between dreams and reality. Slowly, fragments of memories come back.

Vicky watching me from a window. Me getting into the car. A vehicle crashing into us.

And pain. So much pain.

I had no intention of letting her go. But I realize that I might not have a choice now that she’s expecting another man’s child.

I just hope he’ll make her happy the way I know I would have.