Part 24

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My husband was in an accident," she said, her voice cracking. "Where is he?"

The receptionist, now looking more serious, glanced at her computer screen. "Yes, there were two traffic accident cases that came in at the same time," she explained. "According to the records, one of the patients, who is your husband, did unfortunately pass away."

"That wasn't my husband." Kivilcim said sharply.

"Oh.... well, the other is currently in recovery. Notes say anesthesia should wear off any moment as he been out of surgery for awhile now."

Kivilcim's eyes widened in shock. "In recovery? Are you saying... are you saying there's been a mix-up?"

The receptionist nodded, her expression sympathetic. "If the gentleman at the morgue was indeed not your husband, it seems so. I'm so sorry for the confusion, I am new here. Let me find out more details and see if we can locate the correct patient's room for you."

Kivilcim felt a wave of relief mixed with overwhelming confusion. "Please, hurry. I need to know where he is."

The receptionist quickly got to work, typing and checking records. Kivilcim paced anxiously, her mind reeling from the shock of the mix-up. After what felt like an eternity, the receptionist looked up to her. "I've located the correct patient's room. Follow me, and we'll get you there immediately."

Kivilcim nodded, her heart pounding as she followed the receptionist through the hospital corridors. Each step felt heavy as she made her way up to the room. Finally, they arrived at a private room where Omer lay, unconscious but alive, connected to various monitors and IV drips. He had a band aid over his eyebrow and a cast on his arm.

"Omer." Seeing him there, Kivilcim's breath caught in her throat. She gently took his hand, her tears flowing as she whispered, "Omer, my love. I'm here. We're all here. "

With trembling hands, she leaned in and placed a lingering, tender kiss on his forehead, her tears mingling with her kiss. Omer let out a groan of pain, causing Kivilcim to pull back slightly, her heart racing with concern.

"Omer, are you awake? Are you okay?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Omer groaned again and shifted slightly. Kivilcim's worry deepened. "Don't move too much my love. I'll go get a doctor, okay." She began to turn away, but Omer reached out and grasped her forearm gently.

"Come closer," he murmured almost inaudibly. His eyes fluttered open just enough to focus on her. "Closer... What is that beautiful smell?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Kivilcim's heart ached at his words, her tears now mingling with a soft smile. She let out a soft, tearful giggle and leaned in, their foreheads touching.

Omer's eyes, though heavy with fatigue, seemed to soften as he gazed at her. "I just dreamt of you. Even in my dream I missed you," he whispered.

As he raised he hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, he wiped the lingering unshed tear from the corner of her eyes. "You've been crying, why?"

Kivilcim's tears glistened as she whispered back, "I was so scared I'd lose you."

Omer gave a faint smile, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm fine. I told you I'd be fine. Where is Doga? She didn't run away did she?"

Before Kivilcim could respond, the doctor entered the room, his expression calm and professional. "Ms. Arslan, I'm glad to see your husband is awake. We're monitoring his condition closely. His injuries consisted of broken ribs and arm, but he's stable now. We suspect a concussions, but we will continue to monitor. It's important he gets plenty of rest and follows the recovery plan we've set."

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