June 21st,
"One spring morning, as the birds sang in the treetops, I envisioned myself walking along the sidewalk, hand in hand with a little girl. She was beautiful, with two eyes as blue as the sky and the ocean. Her chestnut hair was tied in two pigtails, and she wore a radiant smile. Further ahead, another child, a little boy this time, with perfectly gray eyes and an innocent gaze, messy black hair, ran towards me and took hold of my free hand.
I followed them, watching with tenderness as they asked me questions or showed me fascinating things along the way. I was happy; for the first time, I felt joy. I sometimes responded to them jokingly.
"Mom, mom, why is the sky blue? Where do clouds come from? Why do birds fly and not us?"
"Mom, mom, look, big brother found a pretty flower, it's for you. Why is it so beautiful, mom?"
So many questions that I struggled to answer. Sometimes, I myself don't know the answers to their inquiries. Yet, it was reassuring. I heard the laughter in their voices over the children's silliness, who, it seems, are mine. And then, a couple passed by us with their child. Their smiles reminded me of my childhood, when my parents were still present. Then came that famous question:
"Tell us, mom, where is Daddy?" "
***
"Adjust the infusion! Bring the sedative."
"This is the third time this week!"
"What's happening, doctor? How is she?"
"Her vital signs are positive. Nothing to worry about physically. However, she is mentally disturbed, and she can only be helped if she is conscious. I'm afraid this might happen again with the progression of the pregnancy."
***
Three months had passed, and Arele remained in a coma. Every day, Fathim visited her, speaking in the hope of bringing her back to life. The investigation was at a standstill, adding frustration to their nerves. Artland Corporation was facing stagnation, and Aline Hartland remained in the hospital miles away. Their enemies were cunning, and our two friends hadn't seen it coming.
The only good news was that the fetus was healthy and growing despite the circumstances. With time, Fathim decided to focus on her best friend's health first. Her awakening was crucial. Returning from her routine visit, Fathim checked on her business partner to ensure he had eaten. It had become a silent but effective ritual between them, especially with Michel going through stormy days lately.
"Michel! I'm here!"
No response. The apartment was in complete darkness. When she turned on the lamp, she found him lying on the couch, surrounded by empty bottles.
"Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing?"
Groggy from the sudden brightness, he grunted as he tried to get up but stumbled, nearly hitting the table if Fathim hadn't caught him.
"Poor Michel!" she lamented. "What's bothering you so much?"
"You...you don't know," he slurred, "I...hic...I..."
Cut off by a hiccup, he struggled to articulate his thoughts. Fathim attempted to bring him back to his room, but he resisted.
"No, no... I... I don't want to. She suffered because of me, and I can't even find that idiot..."
"Enough now. It's not your fault. Come on!" she urged, trying to carry him, but he refused.
"No, I said!" he abruptly pulled away, falling backward onto the couch, bringing her down with him.
YOU ARE READING
In My Deep Memory ( IN REWRITE )
Romance"Memories are echoes of the past that resonate in our present; they remind us of where we come from and guide our path toward the future." Certifying who I am and the reason for my continued existence seems elusive. I had a past shrouded in mystery...
