Page 107 of Double Standards
It’s weak. Barely more than a twitch. But I feel it; my muscles obeying command.
Open.
A tremble. The air brushes my skin. My breath catches.
Clench.
It works.I can move.
It feels like a fucking miracle.
Before the relief can fully settle, a voice cuts through the fog—deep, grounded, unmistakable.
“Axel?”
My heart jumps. I know that voice.
Trigger.
My eyes flutter open like they’ve been weighted down with stone. The light burns, and everything’s blurred at the edges, but I see the shape of him. Solid. Familiar. Safe.
I try to speak, but the sound that comes out is a low, broken groan. My throat feels shredded, like I’ve swallowed glass and chased it with fire. Nothing about my body feels right, but that voice… it anchors me.
Trigger moves closer, bending into view. He’sholding a cup in one hand, his other hand hovers like he doesn’t know whether to touch me or not, like he’s afraid I’ll shatter if he does.
“Water?” he asks gently, his brows pulled together in a tight line I rarely see on him.
My lips crack as I try to form the word. The effort is excruciating.
“Yes,” I rasp. Barely a whisper. It doesn’t sound like me.
His expression softens. Relief and something like pain etches into the corners of his mouth. He nods and moves quickly, propping me up with surprising care. The cup is cool against my lips, and when the first drop of water hits my tongue, I could cry.
I didn’t know how much I needed this, how close I’d come to slipping away entirely.
I don’t know where I am. I don’t know what day it is. But I know this:
I’m alive.
I sip through the straw, the coolness easing the fire in my throat.
“You good?” he asks, watching me like I might vanish.
I nod and sink back into the pillow, letting my surroundings sharpen.
The door swings open, allowing more light to invade my vision.
“Mr. Bonanno, it’s good to see you awake.”
The voice is calm and light.
I blink, taking her in.
The clipboard, the white coat, the professional smile. Her eyes are sharp and serious. “How are you feeling?”
I clear my throat. Instantly regretting it. “I’ve felt better.”
“I’m Doctor Miller.” She jots something down. “Do you remember what happened?”
