Trista’s pov

I stayed by the bed for two days and two nights, but Donald didn't show any signs of waking up. I was tired of crying, and my eyes were swollen like walnuts. Even my voice became hoarser and hoarser. "If you don't wake up now, I will accompany you."

I gently touched the back of his hand. How much comfort did this hand give me before, but now it doesn't move. It can no longer touch my eyebrows, eyes, and my face

"Donald, how are you doing now? Are you alone on the edge of life and death?" Two more lines of tears welled up in my dry...