Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I WOKE UP feeling disoriented. For a few moments, I struggled to understand where I was and what had happened. The last thing I vividly remembered was going to bed with Nina, in my home in London.
Then, as a few minutes passed, I felt aching in my throat. I was feeling sore all over, and was unable to swallow the harsh knot that had formed in my throat.
"Oh my God, Eli." I recognized Celine's voice. Worry laced her tongue as she rushed to grab me a glass of water.
Gently, she brought the cup to my lips and I gagged at the room temperature water. I never had anything without ice, though it had a soothing sensation.
"How are you feeling?" Celine asked. Her baby blue eyes soft, as her bottom lip quivered. She took my hand in hers, and squeezed it lightly.
"Confused, mostly," I cleared my throat. "What happened?"
Celine released an exhausted breath, "Nina called us, it was around three in the morning here. She said you were barely breathing," she lowered her voice, "You had a heart attack."
I tried to laugh, but it turned into a harsh cough. Pain pierced through my body, "Well, that's to be expected. I'm turning 39 soon."
She was unimpressed by the joke. "Stop joking around. Nina's a mess. We barely got her to go home and take a shower."
I regretted the joke as soon as pain flashed behind Celine's eyes. "Did she come back?"
My sister shook her head, "No, not yet. She'll be here soon, don't worry. Mom and Sebastian are speaking with the doctors right now."
I finally glanced around the hospital room. Aside from the signature smell each hospital had, nothing else could've told me this was a room in one. It was too expensive for it to be one.
My eyes narrowed.
On the small table across from where the bed was located was a bouquet of roses. However, it wasn't just any roses. It was a bouquet of blue roses, the rarest and most expensive roses in the world.
Immediately, a flashback repeated itself in my head.
"Will you ever allow me to buy you flowers?" I asked, staring into her gentle eyes. My finger trailed her soft shoulder. It was impossible to keep my hands off her.
Freya laughed, "I appreciate the flowers you sent me. But red roses? That's cliche."
My eyes rolled back, "Then, what kind of flowers would you like to receive? Tell me, and by morning you'll have a thousand of them."
Freya pursed her lips, her fiery hair fell over the pillow, leaving her scent all over. Nothing could compare than coming home to the smell of her.
"How about blue roses?"
It was late in the evening. After I'd given her a bath, she refused to put on clothes. She wanted only a silk sheet over her body and if I hadn't worn her out already, she would've been bent over my knee for teasing me.
