Love Birds | ✓

18. The Choice

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It feels so good to see you back on your feet again.

This morning when I woke up for the first time in your apartment since your accident, your smiling face crossed my view so effortlessly, the last three weeks felt like a nightmare that has finally drawn to an end.

The bandaged wound on your forehead is definite proof that it all happened, but I know now for certain that we're both unscathed. The doctor has advised bedrest for atleast a week more after discharge, but since when do you ever listen?

You brush a soft kiss upon my lips before you get up and disappear from my sight, my eyes still too heavy to welcome the morning sun. I thought perhaps that a couple of minutes' sleep wouldn't do any harm and somehow the thought helped me drift away with a fuzzy smile on my face.

The next time I was aware of waking up was to the gorgeous smell of bacon and eggs wafting right across the room, the aroma enough to raise my senses up to be consciously awake.

You're back in the next two minutes as you set the breakfast-in-bed tray by my lap after I've lazily perched myself against the headrest.

"You know that I'm the one supposed to be bringing you breakfast, right?" I ask, smiling in spite of myself.

"The doctor thinks it's better you finally catch up on two week's worth of sleep that you've missed out on, thanks to me," you reply and I shake my head.

"Well, there's going to be a lot of time to sleep now, considering that I'm out of a job," I joke, and suddenly you grow somber.

"Elsa, about that. Don't you think I can convince your boss otherwise? I mean, if I spoke to him atleast once..."

"Sweetheart, it's okay. I had a choice between my job and my relationship and I chose the latter. And I don't regret it."

"Elsa, that was your dream-"

"-dreams change, and so do priorities. And I didn't get fired."

Silence.

"Wait, what?" you ask finally, the eggs beginning to grow lukewarm as I finally dig in.

"My boss granted me the entire month off from my paid leave. The current season is a bit slack so he was more than okay with me having the month to sort my personal issues out."

"So what happened then?"

"I quit," I reply with a non-chalant shrug, looking him straight in the eye.

"I got the gist of that. But why?" you ask, a little impatient.

"Because I had a little epiphany of my own during your accident."

You look at me, suddenly worried.

"Elsa, did you hit your head some place? You're not making sense to me."

I smile.

"It's simple. During your two-week coma, it got me thinking about what life would be from that point forth. For you, especially. You've worked for years on end to achieve the position you're ultimately at and you're a step away from being the CMO of your firm."

"And?"

"That somehow got me thinking about my career and I realized that while I was in the right field, being an editor was never my dream. Being a writer was."

A broad smile breaks upon your face before you're visited by the same worry again.

"Honey, that's what I've always told you. And I'm glad that you see it that way. But what about your expenses? I mean being a writer is amazing but that amazing isn't always there for all writers. You know that better than the rest. Then what made you quit your job?"

"You want an answer or the truth?" I question in turn, drinking the last remnants of my coffee.

"I'll know which anyway," you reply with a smile and I sigh.

"Well the truth is, the sheer thought that if this were the last day of my life and someone asked me if I would continue wanting to do what I have been doing for a living, the answer would have been a no, left me more afraid than even the thought that I was on my deathbed answering this."

There was a long pause, after which you finally let out a small laugh and look me right in the eye.

"If you've thought this through, then I'm with you to the end of the line."

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