BRETT P.O.V.
I don't know how I got to her room. The atmosphere is filled with an oppressive tension, a blend of hope and fear that makes my heart race. I stand at the doorway, rooted in place, inhaling a scent that is nothing short of intoxicating. A lingering note of strawberries and chocolate wafting in the air. Ironically, those are some of my favorite treats. But as my gaze falls upon the woman lying in the hospital bed, I feel a treacherous wave of guilt wash over me.
In the stillness of that sterile room, my thoughts drifted back to Lora. With her, there had been a soft, wildflower fragrance that matched her free spirit. It was a scent I had cherished. But this girl made my heart ache in ways I’d never thought I'd feel again. It feels disloyal to even consider it, the parallel wor
