When I awoke, it was already early spring.
The nurse told me I had been asleep for three months.
She said it was a miracle I woke up, as I was likely to remain a vegetative state.
I looked at her blankly.
"Was my surgery for the tumor in the back of my brain successful?"
She nodded with a smile.
"It was a success. You'll definitely live a long life."
After the doctor left, I remained in a daze.
It wasn't until a warm, large hand gently touched my forehead.
I turned my head; was this man with a stubbly face Johnson?
"Emma , you're finally awake."
His eyes were red, and he had become so thin he was skin and bones.
I heard from the housekeeper that during my post-surgery coma, Johnson had stayed by my side and also knelt in the church for three days and nights without food, all to
