2. Hope

DANTE

[A few days later.]

"El, I know you can hear me." He, in fact, did not know that, but he could only hope so. He held on to that tinge of hope with all he had. He could not bear the thought of living without his son. Even though the kid frustrated him sometimes, he was still his favourite person on earth.

The boy had only opened his eyes twice since the accident, and he could only smile with his eyes whenever he locked gazes with his father. Even his gaze looked weak, one could tell that his vision was hazy. Dante hated seeing him that way.

"Please, come out of this for me." He pleaded as a drop of tear escaped his eye. But as he heard the door of the ward swing open, he immediately wiped that tear off. Nobody was allowed to see him cry.

"Sir." He heard the doctor say as he approached. He decided he was not going to respond, because any attempt to speak would have had him breaking down again, he could not let that happen. Instead, he acknowledged the man with a stiff nod and pursed lips.

He watched as the doctor examined his son and took notes. He tried to scan the man's facial expressions for any sign of progress, but it was useless, the man's face was as blank as a white wall, no expression.

And when the doctor looked at him with his lips stretching in a small smile, something in his chest tingled. That had to mean something good. Doctors did not smile when it came to announcing bad news.

"His vitals are now stable," the doctor said to Dante.

A breath escaped Dante's lips at that moment, it felt like something heavy had been lifted off his back. He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on Elon's forehead.

He had missed his son a lot, especially those tricky questions of his. At home, it felt really weird knowing that his son was not even there. It felt empty, like it was just a house, not a home. It only dawned on him how much he actually loved listening to the boy's endless questions now that he was not able to do so.

So, he asked the doctor, "is it possible that he continues his recovery at home?"

The doctor seemed to be reasoning for a while, weighing some options. Then he replied, "if you're able to provide all the equipment that he'll need, I don't see why not." he shrugged. "We'll also assign a nurse that will watch over him at your house."

"Fine." Was all Dante said. By now, it should have been obvious that money was not a problem for him; at least, not when it came to his son. He was ready to pay anything.

"I'll begin with the arrangements." The doctor announced before leaving the ward.

Dante felt like he could finally breathe air again. The past few weeks, he had felt like he was choking, and sometimes, he would not even be able to breathe. Elon was his source of strength, he was surely going to die too if the boy did. That boy was his lifeline.

Still hoping that his son could hear him, he took the boy's hand and whispered, "You're coming home, El."

•°•°•°•

Elon's room had lost the life it used to have. There used to be colours, art, and his bright presence to bring everything together; now, the room had been converted into a ward and the air in the room sometimes smelled of medications.

It was a sickening and depressing sight for Dante to behold.

At least he is here, Dante thought. He was going to have comfort in the fact that his son was home and was in the best conditions to recover properly.

Now, the boy was able to stay awake, although he could not yet talk like he used to. The smile in the kid's eyes always warmed Dante's chest and sparked hope in him, that was what kept him strong.

"His joints are almost completely healed." Someone had spoken. Dante's eyes moved from his son's face and landed on hers. He had even forgotten that she was in the room at the moment.

Genesis was what she had called herself, the nurse assigned to take care of his son. Genesis Cruz.

"He's making progress." She added as he still had not responded, she was smiling as she spoke.

"Good." was all he said to her, with a firm nod.

She gave a tight-lipped smile, an awkward one, and walked past him with a steel tray. He was now alone with his son.

His eyes raked the boy's room and that dark feeling returned to him. And then his eyes landed on a photo of her, right beside Elon's bed. Evelyn. His heart still called out to her, and that longing grew even more with each passing day.

Sometimes, he wished that he would wake up one day and find out he had been living a bad dream all the while, that she was actually still there with him, and he would see her face again and hold her in his arms. He hoped for that. But, deep down, he knew all too well that that was his reality.

She was gone. Forever.

And as he stared at the piece of her that he had left, his heart bled.

"You have to bounce back." He whispered to his son. "Please."

He buried his face in his palms, elbows hoisted on his knees. He had not felt this weak since he lost Evelyn.

He heard the nurse walk back in the room and immediately straightened his posture, adjusting his tie and dusting invisible dust off his sleeves.

His eyes stinged but he did everything to fight back the tears that threatened to pour out of his eyes. And then, without a single word to the nurse, he got up and exited the room.