Ashes of reality

Chapter 3 - Step Toward the Light - Part 2

His throat tightened. His eyes stung. Even now - after everything - his child is drawing. He turned to the window so no one could see these tears. He didn't know how he would start everything over. He didn't know how he would look Jake in the eyes when the day of their meeting comes. But he knew the most important thing: He woke up. He's alive. And he won't run anymore. The room he was lying in became quieter. Even the machines around - the IV drips, the monitors - seemed less insistent. He started to distinguish sounds outside the window: birds, distant voices, the noise of cars. The real world slowly, like through water, was returning to him. He ran his fingers over the sheet. The fabric was rough, hospital-like. But alive. Not an illusion, not fog. Real. On the bedside table was a plastic cup of water. Someone had placed it there recently. Nearby - a crumpled piece of paper. He reached for it, struggled, but managed. He unfolded it. A drawing. In simple pencil. A child's hand, but the lines were confident. It was him and Jake. Two silhouettes against the background of a house. And the sun - too big, like children usually draw. Above their heads - a crooked inscription:

"Dad is back."

He couldn't hold back anymore. Tears ran down his cheeks, freely, without restraint. Not from pain. Not from fear. But because he's still here. Because the chance is still alive. And in this drawing, in these clumsy strokes - there was hope. Small, but strong. The very thing he had held on to inside his world, where everything was falling apart. The door to the room cracked open. Slowly, cautiously. A woman in a gown peeked in.

- Mr. Carter?.. You... You're crying?

He nodded.

- It's... it's good, she said softly. This... is good.

And she left, leaving him alone with the drawing.

He pressed the sheet to his chest.

And in complete silence, for the first time in a long while, he said:

- I'm sorry, Jake. I'm back.

He didn't know how much time had passed. Minutes stretched, dissolved in the white light of the ward. But something inside him shifted - like a stuck gear finally moving. He breathed. He felt. He remembered. Footsteps were heard in the corridor. Several voices. One - male, clear, medical. The second - restrained, almost a whisper. And the third - quiet, childlike. He tensed. His heart began to beat faster, as if it was afraid to hope. The door opened again. The same woman in a gown entered, nodded to someone behind her. And within a second, there he was, standing in the doorway.

The boy.

Shy, with a stuffed toy pressed to his chest. His hair had grown a little longer than in that drawing. But he was still the same.

- Jake?.. his voice trembled. - Is it you?..

The boy didn't answer right away. Took a step forward. Then another. Stood next to the bed. And without saying a word, placed his small hand on his.

- I heard you, he said. - All the way.

Ethan closed his eyes. This time - not from pain. From relief.

- I was so afraid that everything was lost, he whispered. - That I... that you... - I know, Jake interrupted. - But you came back.

The world around them began to fill with color again. Not bright - soft, muted, like after a long storm. He felt it: now the journey really begins. Not back - forward. With every mistake. With every memory. With every hope. He didn't know how much longer he would be here, in this semi-transparent world, where everything seemed blurred, where there was neither clarity nor sharpness. But in his mind, there was one firm feeling: this journey wouldn't end in the hospital room. It was just beginning. Ethan opened his eyes and looked at his son. Jake stood next to him, just like in his memories, but something was different about him. Something had changed, and maybe it wasn't just his appearance. He saw him and knew that this world, this reality... they had all lost something important. But had it been lost forever?

- Jake, you... Will you forgive me? - his words were quiet, like a prayer.

The boy was silent, but his hand on his was tightly gripping. Ethan felt warmth, something warm and alive that couldn't just be a fantasy. Jake remained silent, but his presence spoke more than any words.

- It will be alright, Jake said, as if answering an unspoken thought.

Ethan knew that wasn't true. But in this moment of silence, in this modest touch of his hand, he suddenly felt that he had a chance. Not everything was lost. There was still a possibility to change. He looked at the boy again. And now he understood: this wasn't just forgiveness, it wasn't just a return. This was a chance to start over.

Or at least try.

Ethan took a deep breath. The feeling was strange, as if he was trying to feel something invisible in the air. Everything around was still distorted, and reality seemed shaky, but he felt how his heart was calming down, how the weight on his chest was gradually lifting. He didn't know what would happen next, but he understood one thing - this moment had become his starting point.

- You're not alone, Jake said quietly, as if he knew what Ethan was thinking. - You're not alone in this world.

The words sounded like a promise. Ethan met his gaze, seeing in the boy's eyes not just forgiveness, but some kind of light force that illuminated his path. The world still seemed blurry, but there was something in this light that made him believe that everything was possible. He was trying to find meaning in what was happening to him, but maybe his task wasn't to search for meaning, but simply to move forward. So that every step, every word carried hope with it.

- I'll be with you, he whispered, looking at his son. - I won't leave you. Never.

Jake didn't say anything. He just nodded and quietly turned to the door. Ethan watched as his small steps faded into the corridor, but the warmth he brought remained with him. A few more moments, and Ethan was alone. He was back in this quiet, almost empty world he was sinking into, but now inside him, there was a different feeling. He knew the journey wouldn't be easy, that he would have to face what he had done, what he had lost, but now he was ready. Ethan looked towards the window, through which light was barely seeping in. This light, although dim, was real. And his path was real now, too. He didn't know what awaited him ahead, but one thing was clear: it didn't matter how long it would take.

The main thing - he had started moving again.