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(Lana-POV)
The lights in the hospital were too bright. They hurt my eyes like knives. I blinked and held my head because it felt like it was cloudy and thundering. I could taste iron in my mouth. My tongue felt weird, and I felt like it belonged to someone else.
A voice softly called my name. I looked away. A man stood very still outside the glass door. He didn't act like a guest. He stood like someone who had been waiting his whole life.
When I looked at him, he said, "Lana." He spoke in a low, warm voice. It put something in my chest that I couldn't put a name to.
"Who are you?" I asked. My voice sounded hurting and deep.
He opened the door without knocking and came very close to me. He seemed too tall for the small room. His hair was dark and well-kept. His suit had a faint smell of rain. He smiled, but it wasn't a happy smile. It was a careful smile that was on the verge of panic.
He said, "My name is Adrian." "Adrian Kingsley." I am your darling husband.
The words hit me like a cold stone. My husband. For a moment, the room spun. I touched my chest where the stone hit. There was nothing there, just the sound of my heart beating like a slow drum.
I tried to imagine what life would be like with a man named Adrian. I tried to bring things like faces, places, and love to life within me. My mind was full of thoughts, and the sound of a car breaking. The silence scared me more than the pain.
"Are you married?" I asked, and the word tasted like the name of a stranger.
Adrian's hands went to the back of his head. He laughed softly, like someone who was hiding something painful. He said, "You don't remember." "You were in a bad accident. You wasted time. The doctors say you will get better, but it will take time.
Not fast. A word that made fear move into the room.
Then a nurse came in to look over the charts and papers. She told him softly that visitors shouldn't be involved in patient care, but he didn't move. He kept looking at me like someone who is scared of losing a small flame.
"You are not alone," he said softly. "You weren't by yourself that night."
The room got quiet again. I tried to understand that new sound. Not by yourself. The words felt like a string.
The nurse shook her head and left. Adrian came to the bed and sat down next to me when the door clicked shut. He reached out and took my hand. It stayed close to my skin, like a bird that doesn't want to scare its mate.
I didn't mean to, but my fingers closed around his. The touch felt strangely familiar, like a memory my body kept even when my mind couldn't. His hand made my skin feel warm. For a moment, something soft, like a smile, moved inside me, but then fear pushed it down.
"Why are you staring at me like that?" I asked. My voice shook. Not just the crash. It was something older, deeper, and more real.
He took a drink. The light made his eyes shine. "I thought I lost you," he said. "I thought you were gone for good."
There was pain in Adrian's voice. The kind that makes you want to do something to make the pain go away. I didn't know what to do. My head hurts. The memory of bright glass, tires screaming, and someone yelling my name came and went like someone turning a small light on and off.
A doctor said, "You were in a car," when he came back with more people. "You were hurt badly. But you made it through. You are lucky.
Good luck. The word didn't feel right. At the same time, I'm lucky and empty. I looked back at Adrian. I needed something real that I could hold on to.
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