Robin
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I wake up to a pounding headache, my brain feeling like it's been hit with a sledgehammer. Every part of my body aches as I slowly open my eyes, squinting against the harsh, fluorescent light above me. I blink several times, trying to clear the fog in my head, and my surroundings start to come into focus. The sterile white walls of a hospital room. The soft beep of a heart monitor nearby. The faint smell of antiseptic that clings to everything.

Where am I?

I try to sit up, but my head swims, and I collapse back onto the bed, a sharp pain shooting through my skull. My hand instinctively presses to my temple, feeling the dull throb. I groan, squinting around the room.

And then I see Heather.

She’s sitting in a chair near the bed, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Her hair is messy, and she looks exhausted, but her eyes are trained on me, watching me like she’s waiting for me to wake up.

I feel a knot form in my throat.

Why the hell is she here? What does she want? Hasn't she done enough?

She must notice me looking at her because her lips part slightly, and she stands up and takes a cautious step toward me.

“Robin?” Her voice is soft, almost too gentle, like she’s afraid I’ll snap. “How are you feeling?”

I don't answer. Instead, I turn my face away from her, staring at the ceiling. The last thing I want right now is her sympathy, her apologies. I don’t need any of that.

I close my eyes, trying to block out her presence. She doesn’t deserve to be here.

I hear her take a deep breath, then speak again, her voice breaking the silence.

“I’m sorry,” she says, her words barely above a whisper. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t,” I cut her off sharply, my throat tight.

I don’t want her to finish. I don’t want to hear any more of her apologies.

What good are they? How can she fix what she’s done? She lied to me. She kissed me, and I let myself believe for a moment—just a brief moment—that there was something real between us. But there wasn’t. It was all a lie. A game.

I’m not ready to forgive her, and I never will be.

I turn my head away from her completely, staring at the white, tiled ceiling again. I hear her shift but I don’t look at her.

The door to the room opens, and I hear footsteps.

“Robin!”

I don’t need to look to know it’s her. My mother’s voice rings through the room, and then I feel her arms around me. She’s smothering me with affection, kissing my forehead and cooing about how relieved she is that I’m awake.

I let her hold me for a moment, letting her warmth surround me, but I don’t let myself get too comfortable.

“You scared me so much,” my mom continues, pressing another kiss to my forehead. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you, sweetheart.”

I want to pull away, but I don’t. I don’t want to upset her more. My mom’s face is red with tears, her hands trembling as she strokes my hair.

So I need to have a near death experience for her to care?

Then, there’s a slight shift in the room, and I hear a familiar voice—Melanie.

“Is she awake?” Melanie’s voice is high-pitched with worry, and I feel the bed shift as she steps closer.

“Yes,” my mom answers, “she’s awake. Thank God.”

I feel another presence near me, and my heart skips a beat when I realize it’s Javis. I don’t look at him either. I don’t want to. I don’t need him here either. He was part of this mess, part of everything that went wrong.

“I’m so sorry, Robin,” Javis says, his voice sounding strained. I can feel him standing at the foot of my bed, but I don’t open my eyes to look at him. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to hear him. He’s the reason this all started, the reason everything went to hell.

I tune out their conversations. I feel trapped in this hospital bed, surrounded by people who don’t understand.

They think they’re helping, but they’re not. They’re just making everything worse. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.

A nurse walks in, breaking the silence. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need to check on Robin,” she says, and I hear the rustle of her uniform as she moves toward me.

I nod silently, relieved to have an excuse to get away from the uncomfortable situation. My mom steps back, letting the nurse do her job, and Javis and Melanie back off too.

I close my eyes again, trying to pretend none of them are here, but I can’t escape them. They’re all here, hovering over me, trying to make me feel better when all I want to do is scream.

The nurse does her thing—checking my vitals, asking me questions about how I’m feeling. She gives me a painkiller for the headache, and I sigh in relief as the pain starts to dull. She leaves the room after a few minutes, and I’m left alone with my thoughts.

The moment the door closes, I turn my head and open my eyes. Heather is still there, sitting in that same chair. She’s watching me, waiting for me to say something, but I’m not ready. Not now, not ever.

I wish she’d leave.

The rest of the day is a blur. My mom stays at my side, and Javis checks in every now and then, but I hardly acknowledge him. Melanie talks about taking care of things back home, and I know they’re all planning something, but I don’t care.

When the doctor comes in to check on me again, he tells me that I’m lucky, that the concussion isn’t as bad as it could have been, but they’ll keep me for a few more days to monitor me.

I don’t want to be here, but it’s not my choice anymore. My mom insists on staying with me, and I’m too tired to argue.

When they finally discharge me, my mom announces that we’re all going to Italy for Javis's wedding. She says it’s already planned, that everything is set in motion. Two months, she says. We’re going to Italy, to the family home where the wedding will take place and will stay for two fucking months.

First month for the planning session, the second for the wedding and they will go off to Singapore for their honeymoon.

And, of course, Javis picked our childhood home for the venue. The very place that I had so many memories in. The place I’d never thought I’d have to come back to, not like this. He chose the same place to break my heart.

I don’t protest. I want to. I want to scream and tell my mom I’m not going, but it’s not my decision anymore. She says I can’t stay here alone. That I might do something reckless again.

And she’s right. I don’t trust myself right now. I don’t trust myself to make the right decisions.

So, we’re going to Italy.

I don’t know how to get out of this. But I know I can’t stay here either.

There's no escape.

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Thank you for reading!!

I know it's been a while and you guys probably have up on her. But don't please.

Leave a comment for me if you stuck around!,