Chapter 39 : Resurrection

As with almost everything he did, George had to add drama. Even him waking up from coma was done in a dramatic fashion. His heart rate had spiked up and made the monitor go crazy. The nurse had had to administer antiarrhythmic to get his heartbeat back to its regular rhythm.

Isla sat with her one hand linked in his now, rubbing the pad of her thumb over his knuckles. Isla had never been more grateful, or more scared. It terrified her to think how easy and swiftly one could lose a person they loved. Her mother vanishing in a heartbeat had taught her that, but that was willingly done. This was different. She squeezed his hand slightly tighter, careful not to hurt him, but wanting to reassure herself he was really here. He was alive and had pulled through.

George looked at her face lovingly. Sympathetic for making her afraid, but grateful for second chances. He genuinely believed he would never see her again, accepted it even. Yet, here she was, holding onto his hand -- or what was left of it, he thought, grimacing at the swath of bandages all over him -- and smiling into his eyes again. He would forever be grateful to the kind stranger who had happened during his impromptu execution ceremony in the lonely alley and had promptly called the police. The thugs had escaped before the police could arrive. He struggled to speak, having so much he needed to tell her, his Isla.

“Don’t try to talk, George,” she chided gently. “You are fine. Doctor Chang assured me you are out of the woods.” Tears filled her eyes. She had not even told him she loved him yet, and here he was, trying to die on her. She had learned her lesson; no more hoarding of feelings. Her throat felt clogged up. “I love you, George.” She choked. “I love you and once you get out of here, I am going to show you just how much.”

He was delirious and could feel the darkness dragging him back in, but wasn’t ready to let go yet, afraid he might not come out of it this time. She loved him. His Isla loved him.

Isla watched him struggle to stay awake. “Don’t fight it, George,” she pleaded. “I’ll be right here when you wake up. Rest now; we have time.” And with the image of Isla’s face, he fell into a dreamless sleep.

***

George winced as he shifted his weight, trying to become more comfortable. He briefly questioned the wisdom behind his decision to request that the hospital reduce his pain medication. However, he preferred clarity with some discomfort to delirious painlessness. It was not in his nature to be unaware of his environment, and he had despised the helpless feeling.

“You okay?” He looked at the woman sitting beside him. She was stunning; a rare blue-eyed beauty. She wore a brown cashmere button-down sweater over a white tee-shirt and blue jeans. The simple combo on her was classy and elegant. Her face was devoid of any makeup and her gold hair was packed in a simple ponytail, yet he would pick her over any overdressed supermodel. Any day and any time. And, as he had come to discover overtime, the beauty extended internally as well. She hadn’t left the hospital once in the days since he had been admitted. She wasn’t aware he knew this; the plump, friendly-faced nurse, Jane, had been the one to drop this piece of information as she changed his IV line the previous evening. “Hell of a woman you got there,” she had remarked, a glimmer in her almond-shaped eyes. George couldn’t agree more. Isla was a hell of a woman. Kind, nurturing and fiercely defensive of those she loved.

“I’m fine, babe. Just sore,” he responded, leaning his suddenly heavy feeling head against the pillow behind him. He turned it however, so he could face her squarely. Some things needed to be said. “I want to thank you, Isla”

“Don’t,” Isla responded, scowling at him. "Not nece--"

Shaking his head quickly, George silenced her protest. “There are some things that need to be said. Please.”

Chastised, Isla quietly nodded, encouraging him to carry on.

“I thought I was going to die in that alley. We have been told that, at the point of death, a person’s entire life -- ups and downs, wins and losses, milestones and achievements -- all flash before their eyes. Mine was different.” He sipped some of the water by his bedside. He had been drinking tons of the stuff since he came back to, his thirst constant. He looked at her intensely as he continued, “All I saw was you, Isla. And right there, it became clear; the time we spent together was THE highlight of my life, Isla. And at that point, I had just one regret, that I wouldn’t have more time with you. That I wouldn’t be able to watch you birth my babies.”

Isla flinched at the mention of babies. Instantly, she knew that, no matter how well what she had with George progressed, they had at least one more major stumbling block in front of them. Her stomach dropped, afraid this particular barrier just might be too high to breach. She smiled at him sadly, tears filling her eyes. This amazing man had had a tough life and deserved every good thing in the world. Her heart was broken that she wouldn’t be able to give him at least one of them.

George reached out to wipe the dots of tears on her lashes, flicking them away playfully till she smiled. “I could hear you, you know?” he said, laughing at the confused look on her face. “While I was in a coma,” he clarified. “I could hear everything. The animated stories. The reassurances that I would be fine. I heard all of it. It made the darkness a lot more bearable. Thank you.”

Isla’s jaw dropped in shock. She hadn’t particularly doubted Dr. Chang, but she was astonished that he had been right all the same. Then her face reddened when she recalled all the things she had said at his bedside while he was unconscious. She had detailed all she loved about him and being with him, down to the minutest detail of even their sex life. “Everything, you said?” she asked cautiously. “Even…?”

“Yes, even that,” he responded, although he didn't know what 'that' was. He fought the urge to laugh when her face reddened fiercely. So...she had said something naughty as well? He hated to have missed that. He took a wild guess. "You love what I do to you on different surfaces right?"

The mortification on her face, and Isla's prompt covering of her face with her hands had him laughing out raucously. He peeled her fingers off her face, forcing her to look at him. “You are perfect.”

Fighting down her blush, she remembered what she intended to say to him earlier. “Hey! I’ve got news.”