MRS. COLLINS

44. back to me

I've experienced different types of pain. There was the pain I felt when I ran away from my parents. The pain I felt whenever I missed them, but I had to force myself to not think about them. The pain I felt when Victor hit me and when he turned into a completely different person from who I thought he was. And then there was the pain I felt when I saw Nick unconscious on the floor in his office, bleeding to death. Somehow, none of this is compared to the pain that I feel when I see him on that hospital bed. Somehow, this is worse than him bleeding on the floor.

He's lying on the bed with a white pillow under his head. His eyes are closed, and he has the transparent tube that goes into his nostrils, giving him oxygen. His hands are on either side of him. He is shirtless but he has a white bandage around his torso that goes across his shoulder for support. There is a white blanket on top of him. Seeing him this way makes me feel so sad. I cover my mouth with my hand, trying not to make any noise as the tears begin to fall from my eyes.

I walk over to the bed and sit down on the chair next to him. I grab his hand and put my head down as I cry as quiet as I can. I know that he's not going to wake up right now, but I still don't want him to hear me cry if there is some subconscious part of him that can hear. I don't want him to worry about me being in pain. I don't want him to know that my heart is broken seeing him like this, seeing him here, on a hospital bed.

I had cleaned my face a couple of minutes ago when I went to go change in the restroom, but I can already tell my face is a mess again. I'm so thankful to Richard for having his bodyguard bring me a change of clothes. One of the maids probably helped him. He brought me leggings with a blouse, sweater, and tennis shoes.

I look up and reach out to kiss Nick's cheek, trying to remember the last thing we said to each other. It was in the morning as he walked out of the elevator.

He kissed me and then said, "See you at lunch". I smiled. "Okay," I said as the elevator doors closed.

Okay.

That was the last thing I said to him. Okay. I don't think I've ever hated a word so much. Why didn't I tell him how much I loved him? Oh, right. Because I was so sure I was going to see him at lunch. This is too crazy-my mind still can't comprehend that this is happening.

"I love you, Nick," I say into his ear, touching his hair. "Please come back to me."

I press my forehead against his arm and try to control my tears. I remind myself that he's here. His heart is beating and the machine beeping behind me is proof of that. He's breathing. He's alive. He's warm.

I cry myself to sleep that night. I sleep sitting down with my head next to Nick's arm. I hold his hand all night. It's not a good night. I wake up a couple of times to the dark room and the machines around us, but I force myself to sleep after confirming that Nick is still with me and he's okay.

I dream about Hannah and I pray she's safe. I know her bodyguard will keep her safe. I dream about Dominick and hope I never find myself on his dying bed. I dream about Nick. It's a good dream. One of those that you don't want to wake up from.

I wake up to sun hitting my face. I open my eyes and immediately shut them again when they hurt. I wince in pain when I straighten up. My neck hurts. One of the many perks of sleeping while sitting down.

My eyes scan the room as they adjust to the light. I'm alone. Just Nick and I. Christina and Richard came in the middle of the night to let me know they were heading home. I stare at Nick for a few minutes, trying to notice any difference. He looks the same. His face is less pale so I guess that's a good sign. I stand up and stretch before heading to the bathroom.