Page 45 of Heal Me

"Four years," I don't intend to explain everything, so I keep it short, hoping that Danylo will get off my back.

"Wow," he wonders, "why did you break up?"

"He died," I bite my cheek from the inside to hold back my tears, "he died so that I could live," I answer and fall silent.

On Danylo's face, you can see all the emotions that are raging in my heart, he is sorry, and he is in pain, he knows what it is like to lose someone. His hand covers my arm.

"You'll get through this, mon amour."

"No," I shake my head, "I will never find peace in this world.

This is the second time Danylo and I have talked about such intimate topics, and I've hardly ever trusted anyone with my secrets, but here I'm spilling everything out as if we've known each other all our lives.

I don't like the fact that he knows so much about me, but we share similar stories, so he doesn't try to support me or reassure me, because he knows it won't help.

We are silent, and this silence is more important than millions of unspoken words. I finish my croissant and Danylo finishes his water. We also go to the reception in silence and spend the rest of the day working.

We fall on the couch, terribly tired, it's ten o'clock in the evening and probably the first time we've sat down since the morning breakfast.

"I can't feel my legs," Danylo moans.

"I can't feel anything," I laugh.

"We have a few hours to sleep, I think if something happens, the nurses will call us," Danylo suggests, and I can't refuse.

I don't even get up from the couch, we fall asleep right away, having set the alarm for an hour and a half of sleep.

Tonight, for the first time in a long time, I don't dream about anything. I sleep peacefully, I don't wake up, I don't scream or cry. I feel completely at peace, and no matter how much I want to stay in this moment, the alarm rings mercilessly and we have to wake up.

At first, I didn't realise that something heavy was squeezing my stomach. But when I felt someone's calm breathing above my ear, I realised that Danylo was lying next to me with his arms around my waist.

And although the alarm has been ringing for two minutes, he doesn't wake up and doesn't let go of me, and I can't get away.

By some miracle, I turn to face him.

"Danylo," I whisper, "Danylo, wake up."

I stop myself from running my hand over his face.

I stop myself from kissing the small and almost invisible scar on his lip.

I touch his hand and he slowly opens his eyes.

"Amelia," he smiles, the smile that drives all the girls in the hospital crazy, "just let me lay a little longer."

"We have to work," I insist, still trying to get out of his arms.

Or maybe I'm not trying so hard to get out of his arms. I can't deny that despite his strong body, it feels good to hold Danylo.

"Yeah," he groans, and then realisation hits him, "shit," Danylo explodes off the couch. "I'm sorry, I don't know how it happened." I don't know either, we fell asleep at different ends, but by some miracle we ended up next to each other.

"I must have thought you were Zlata in my dream, I'm sorry," he repeats once again.

It was painful.

"It's okay," I answer, never admitting to myself or anyone else that it was the most peaceful hour and a half of my life in the last three years.

He doesn't look at me anymore. Come on, Danylo, why don't you look up at me? Look at me the way you always do.

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