Six years.
Six fucking years later, the head of Trauma surgeon at Seoul General Hospital, Lisa Manoban, and Roseanne Park meet again on the familiar path of romance they once were. But stubborn hearts are hard to convince.
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Rosie's pov
Six years ago.
I held her tiny fingers close to my mouth, kissing her mini, blue black knuckles ever so gently as my hand traveled to her head, caressing her soft hair gently.
She had been sick as a parrot for two weeks straight and I had not been great either. I never left her side, not even once, fear if I did, that would be the last time I would see her.
My mom came to talk to the doctor with my big sister. I didn't know what they talked about. Medical knowledge has never been a thing of mine. It has always been Lisa's.
But right now, I felt utterly dumb when I saw her helplessly sleeping on the bed, wires attached to her small limbs as her oxygen level shown on the monitor screen next to her bed.
I never know how to read that either. What a fucking loser.
But mama kept telling me that I had been doing exceptionally well as the kids' mom especially after the divorce. I wasn't sure about Lisa but I knew she was doing well too. Maybe, she was somehow right. That she was better off without me.
A series of soft coughs escaped her throat and I stood by her bed, my eyebrows were twisted in a worried manner as I looked at her face. She had been nothing but pale these two weeks. Leaning over her small body, I whispered to her ear as she slowly opened her eyes.
It was a battle at first. Her eyelids twitched but she had zero energy to open them. Until after a few times, she finally managed to open her eyes droopily to gaze directly at me. "Hey, my little angel"
I kissed her temple. Good thing, it was warm enough to thaw the frozen worries that nested in my chest. "How are you feeling?"
I asked again but silly me. She can't talk. Not with that stupid tube in her mouth, sunk down her throat to do a job her lungs had failed to do; to provide her with enough oxygen so that she can still be here, holding my hand till the day I grow old.
"You know if you hear mommy" I said again, letting her to stare at me as much as she wanted. "You can try to blink your eyes, okay?" I caressed her smooth cheek and smiled. "So that mommy knows, you are listening"
I convinced her again and for a moment, she just stayed there on the bed, eyes never leaving mine. And suddenly, I saw she blinked her eyes and even though it was just a one time time, it was more than enough to send me on the verge of tears.
Slowly but surely, I kissed her cheeks and pressed my forehead against her small one. My tears fell from the pond of my eyes, trailing down the tip of my nose as I exhaled.
"I knew you were listening" I say back. "I love you a lot, my love" I said as I retreated back, my hand still very much attached to her own that was pinned with an iv drip. "So so much, Nini"
My little one looked at me as if she understood and let me held her hand a little bit longer until the nurses and doctors arrived for a daily checkup.
They wanted me to stay outside the room so that a thorough checkup can be done but I didn't want that to happen.
