After the echo

Lucas three months later

My breath catches in my throat.Like my head is underwater. Voices echo around me,distant and warped,pulling me in and out of consciousness. Something beeps in a steady rhythm, machines, maybe. There’s a harsh light burning behind my eyelids,but I can’t open my eyes. I try to move my hand to rub at them, but pain shoots up my arm like fire. My chest aches, tight,heavy, like someone’s pressing down on it. My throat feels raw and dry, like I swallowed sandpaper. Then I notice the foreign object lodged in my throat. A tube. Thick. Unnatural. Panic flares in my gut. And then, I hear her voice.Ophelia. It’s soft,distant, but it’s her. I try to move again, to reach for her, to let her know I’m awake, but I’m already slipping back under.

The next time I wake, everything feels heavier. I try to speak,but only a weak, raspy breath escapes. My mouth is dry. My chest still burns. I want to ask what happened, who’s here, what’s going on, but my body refuses to cooperate. Then,like broken pieces falling into place, I remember the crash. The tree. The blinding lights. And then, her perfume. That familiar, comforting scent. It wraps around me like a ghost, and suddenly the pressure in my chest isn’t just from the crash, it’s guilt. Crushing,relentless guilt. She’s here, just like always. Always showing up when it matters.Always putting me first. And I, I haven’t done the same. Even with her here, I feel hollow. Incomplete. Because Arthur isn’t here. He’s always been there for the big moments, the quiet ones too. But not now. Not when it counts. Maybe he called. Maybe he’s busy. Important meetings,right? But deep down,I know better. If he cared,he’d be here.

I try to open my eyes. It feels like lifting boulders. But I manage it, just a little, and then I hear her heels click as she rushes to my side. I feel her weight press against me, her arms around my chest, her warmth sinking into my skin. Tears spill from my eyes before I can stop them. “I know,baby. I’m right here. You’re going to be okay.” Her voice cracks, and I can feel the warmth of her tears on my neck. If she only knew, I’m not crying because of the pain.I’m crying because the one person I needed isn’t here. Arthur. A soft knock interrupts the moment,and I feel her shift away from me,standing. Then a voice I don’t recognize. “Lucas,stay with us.You’re doing great.We’re going to remove the tube now.” Panic floods my veins. I don’t want to do this. Something primal kicks in as I feel them start to move. My lungs seize, working overtime, desperate to breathe on their own. I want to scream, but the tube chokes me.“On three,” someone says gently. I brace.The pain, the fear, the weight of everything, Ophelia’s tears, Arthur’s absence,my failure to choose, crashes over me like a wave. I open my mouth to scream, but there’s no sound, only her scent, his absence, and the unbearable thought that maybe I chose wrong. Maybe I always have.