His Debt

35th Debt

Finale

IT HAD BEEN two months since that incident happened. Devon was still in a coma. The bullet had hit the side of her head, and her condition in the first few weeks of her confinement in the hospital was grave. But thankfully, the operation was successful. The only problem was, they couldn't determine when she'd wake up.

        He'd almost gone crazy. He couldn't bear the thought of losing her. He'd already lost his father and mother. Now, he couldn't afford to lose her, too.

        Nathaniel had wanted to quit his job, suffering from chronic despondency. But fortunately, Emmanuel Leonhardt didn't let him. The man permitted him to take a break until Devon wakes up . . . if she wakes up.

        He allowed himself to drown in sorrow—drinking alcohol, skipping meals (sometimes he'd only eat once a day) and sleeping to his heart's content. What he was now was worst compared to when he lost his parents. He knew that he should stop sulking, move on and stay positive, but all was easier said than done.

        Life wasn't easy without her presence. She was like the Jane to his Tarzan, the Watson to his Sherlock, the Juliet to his Romeo, the Goliath to his David—his other half.

        Sometimes, Zeke would drop by his place and try to convince him to go out, but Nathaniel still wouldn't budge.

        He squinted his eyes as the bright rays of the sun glared; his eyes hurt. "Ugh! Close the curtains!" he exclaimed, covering his face with a pillow.

        "Dude, you need the sun," Zeke said. "And please, take a bath, you reek!"

        "Close it . . . and leave," he mumbled.

        "Just visit her, dude," said Zeke, as if it was an easy thing to do. He didn't want to visit her, because he'd be reminded of the possibility that she might not wake up or be gone for good. "Maybe . . . just maybe, there'll be a miracle."

        Miracle.

        The first few months of Devon's unconsciousness, he'd asked for it a lot of times, but it didn't come. Therefore, he gave up.

        "I heard that she made a slight movement with her finger, and sometimes, her eyes would open but there was no movement," Zeke informed.

        "How did you know about that?"

        Zeke sat down on the edge of the bed. "Her friend, whose name was Brina or something, told me," he answered. "She told me to tell you she wants you to pay Devon a visit," his friend informed. Nathaniel remained silent. "She might wake up any time. You have to be by her side if that happens, dude," he added.

• • •

NATHANIEL FINALLY decided to pay Devon a visit. He took a shower, shaved, and groomed himself. Even if she wasn't conscious, he'd still want to look good. She might wake up, he hoped. And if she saw him in a ragged state, for sure, she'd bombard him with teasing.

        He smiled at the thought of her waking up. A bit of hope finally came over him. He bought flowers and fruits, totally wishing she'd wake up now.

        Nathaniel took a deep breath as he opened the door of Devon's suite. There, he saw her lying in her bed, unconscious. Her face was pale, her hair barely reaching her shoulders. Tubes were attached to her body—the only thing that supported her life as of this moment. He was sure that she wouldn't like her hair's length.