Vincenzo Moreno

Day 3: post operation.

White stark walls moved behind as I was wheeled into ICU: room 4. My system was asleep, with just my ears acknowledging the clomp of feet on the floor, muddled chatters and the squeal the wheelchair had as it rolled on along the tiled floor.

The nurse pushed in the door. My heart throbbed the instant I spotted her. It wasn't good for my recovery, as the doctor had said; I didn't care. I couldn't, not when she was involved.

Something washed over me. Hurt that clawed at my core.

The nurse placed me next to her and left.

I lifted a hand, then...