what almost was
366 Words
When Lucas burst into the hospital, soaked and breathless, the smell of antiseptic hit him like a wall.
He didn’t remember running. Only that he was suddenly there, demanding answers, heart pounding so hard it hurt.
“She’s alive,” a nurse said quickly. “Banged up. Concussion. Broken ribs. But she’s stable.”
The relief nearly dropped him to his knees.
He found her hours later.
Emilia lay pale against white sheets, bruises blooming along her skin, a bandage wrapped around her head. Machines beeped softly around her, marking each fragile breath.
Lucas sat beside her bed, hands trembling as he reached for her fingers.
“They said you kept asking for someone,” he murmured. “I hoped it was me.”
Her eyelids fluttered.
“Lucas,” she whispered hoarsely.
“I’m here,” he said immediately. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes. “I thought I was going to die.”
His grip tightened. “Don’t say that.”
“I was so scared,” she whispered. “And all I could think was—I never told you.”
“Told me what?”
“That I love you,” she said, voice breaking. “That leaving never stopped that.”
Lucas bowed his head, emotion tearing through him.
“I don’t care about the job,” she continued weakly. “I care about you. About us. I don’t want to run anymore.”
He pressed his forehead to her hand, breath uneven. “You don’t have to decide everything now.”
“Yes,” she said softly. “I do. Because I almost didn’t get the chance.”
Silence settled, heavy but different now—earned.
Lucas lifted his head. “You scared me,” he admitted. “I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t,” she said. “Not like that. Not again.”
He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles—careful, reverent.
Outside the window, dawn crept in slowly.
And for the first time since she’d come home, the future didn’t feel like something Emilia had to escape.
It felt like something she might survive.
- Writer
