Page 241 of From Rivals to I Do

Our tender moment is abruptly shattered as the hospital room door swings open, and a team of doctors enters. They move with purpose, their presence

commanding attention. The leader of the group approaches me with a gentle yet authoritative demeanor, his eyes filled with a blend of compassion and

professionalism as he politely asks Maya to leave while they conduct their tests and assessments.

Maya leans down, her lips brushing against my bandaged face, leaving a lingering kiss filled with love and reassurance. Reluctantly, she retreats from the room, her gaze locked with mine until the very last moment.

The lead physician addresses me with a warm smile. "Good afternoon, Mr. Reed. I'm Dr. Thompson. How are you feeling?"

I take a moment to gather my thoughts. "I am experiencing pain throughout my body and there's a constant throbbing sensation in my left arm, and my right leg feels stiff and uncomfortable."

Doctor Thompson nods, his expression empathetic. "Thank you for sharing that with us. We'll make sure to address those issues during your recovery. In

the last two days, your body has made significant progress, but it might take a while for your wounds to be completely healed."

The doctors continue their examination, checking my vital signs, palpating my injuries, and asking me to perform specific movements to assess my mobility.

"Do you experience any shortness of breath or chest pain?" Doctor Thompson inquires.

I shake my head. "No, thankfully. My breathing feels normal, and I haven't noticed any chest discomfort."

"We're pleased to see that your vital signs are stable," Doctor Thompson remarks. "We'll need to conduct a few additional tests to ensure we have a

comprehensive understanding of your injuries."

The room hums with a symphony of sounds—the soft beeping of machines, the hushed voices of the doctors and nurses, and the distant echo of

footsteps in the hallway. I consciously detach myself from the physical discomfort, allowing my thoughts to drift back to Maya.

***

As I step out of Jackson's hospital room, the doors closing behind me with a soft click, I walk down the hospital corridor, and for the first time since I came

into the hospital, I take the time to notice the environment. The walls, painted in calming shades of pale blue, bear framed artwork meant to uplift and

distract from the worries that fill these halls. My eyes take in all the sights I'm seeing casually until they lock on to a captivating painting hanging proudly

on the wall.

It is a vibrant piece, alive with colors that dance and blend together in harmony. The artist's strokes are confident yet delicate, capturing the essence of a

breathtaking sunset over a tranquil lake. I study the interplay of light and shadows, the intricate details that bring the scene to life. I feel an instant

connection to this artwork as if it holds a message meant solely for me.

Immediately, my mind goes to the art festival, the one I had to forgo in order to be by Jackson's side. The thought lingers, a bittersweet twinge in my

heart. I made the choice out of love, sacrificing a crucial moment in my artistic career for the well-being of the person I cherish most. A soft smile tugs at

the corners of my lips as my gaze remains fixed on the painting, I realize that my decision was justified. The depth of love and commitment I hold for Jackson surpasses any fleeting success or recognition.

I walk into a nearby reception area, take a seat, and allow the energy of the bustling hospital to surround me. My phone buzzes, and I retrieve it from

my pocket to see Maria's name flashing on the screen. I answer the call, feeling excited to hear from my friend again.

"How are you, Maya?" Maria's voice bubbles with excitement. "Has Jackson shown any signs of consciousness?"

A surge of joy courses through me as I respond, "Yes! He opened his eyes today, and we had a beautiful conversation. It was as if a ray of sunlight pierced through the clouds, filling the room with hope and love."

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