Communicating Vessels [COMPLETED]

Chapter 37

Four years earlier

I heard the annoying beeps before I saw the depressingly white walls when I regained consciousness. Thankfully, I had not been to the hospital very often in my life, but I knew what it looked like, and I was positive that's where I was. The blinding pain that shot through my whole body when I tried to sit up confirmed that I was not just in a grim hotel room.

"Abril! Thank God honey, you're awake!" My mother said in Spanish before wrapping her arms around me.

I winced in pain and she immediately released me. She took my hand instead.

"You're in the hospital, sweetheart," she explained, still in Spanish, like always when we were talking together. "You've been in a car accident. You broke two ribs, you cracked a vertebra, and you had a severe concussion. But you're getting better, you'll be all right."

That explained the pain.

"You've been in a coma for almost a month. I was so scared I'd lose you, I am so happy you woke up, sweetheart. I love you so much."

My mom started to cry and I raised my arm to stroke her hair. The movement was painful but I sucked it up for her sake. After the hell my parents must have gone through for a month, that was the least I could do. A month. Wow. That was a long time to remain unconscious. What had I missed? How had I ended up there?

My dad, who had been silently sitting in a chair by the foot of my bed, came by my side and hugged my mother.

"Welcome back, Abril," he said in our mother tongue. "You scared your mother and me to death, we're so happy to have you back."

And suddenly the whole scene of the accident came back to me. I could relive it as if I were in that car again. I started hyperventilating when I visualized the black car hitting us from the right. My parents got scared and reached for the button to call a nurse. I asked them not to. I had other priorities, at this moment.

"How's Josh?" Those were the first words I pronounced after waking up. In English. The language of my soulmate. "How's the baby?" I didn't even care that my parents were not aware of my pregnancy. Surely somebody in that damn hospital would have told them anyway.

I put my hands on my belly to protect my child and did the quick math in my head. If I had been in a coma for a month, then I should have been around six months pregnant. If my bump was noticeable but subtle before the accident, there was no way my stomach could still be so flat at this stage. Something was wrong.

I looked at my mother's eyes and all I could see was sadness and pity. I started to understand that not only something was wrong, but nothing was right. My head started to spin. I felt the pull of unconsciousness trying to claim me back but I fought it.

"No," I croaked, my voice severely hindered by a month spent sleeping. "No!" I croaked louder. "Mom, please, tell me it's not true!"

I forced my body to sit up. All my bones were screaming in protest. I didn't care. My heart shattering was my bigger concern.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

"No!" I kept yelling as loud as my fucked-up voice allowed me. "Where is he? I need to see him!"

I pulled the bedsheet off me and swung my legs to the side of my bed. I needed to find my fiancé.

My father took my mother's place next to me and pinned me back on the mattress.

"You cannot get up, Abril. You're still very weak, you need to rest," he ordered.

"I don't care! Where is he? Where is my baby?"