2. Roses Are Dead

Diane

I woke up to bright light piercing through my eyelids. I could hear the beeping of a monitor and the faint murmur of voices, tugging at my consciousness.

My body felt very heavy like I was trying to move underwater, and every part of me ached like crazy, even my eyelids. But I pushed through the pain and opened my eyes, blinking slowly, trying to make sense of where I was.

“Diane? Diane, can you hear me?”

A familiar voice cut through my hazy mind. I turned my head slowly, wincing as the movement sent another sharp pain through my skull.

My gaze landed on my best friend, Julia, who sat beside me, her face filled with a mix of worry and relief.

“Julia,” I said, my voice sounded hoarse and barely above a whisper. My throat felt drier than sandpaper.

“Oh, Thank God.” She leaned forward, wrapping her hand around mine. Her hand was warm and soft as it grounded me in a reality I wasn't sure I was ready to face.

She kept whispering gratitude into my shoulder until she finally pulled away, her teary eyes running over my body.

“You scared me, Di. How'd you feel? Are you okay? The doctor would—”

She kept talking, but her voice faded into my imaginary background as I glanced around the room, noticing and taking in the plain white walls and the smell of disinfectant that clung to the air.

My hand still felt stiff even as I tried to lift it, and that was when I noticed the bandage wrapped around my arm, the stiff sheets beneath me, the cold, clinical atmosphere and it occurred to me that I was in a hospital.

“What…What happened?” My voice came out slow and sluggish as though my brain was just waking up.

Julia opened her mouth to answer, but before she could, a man’s voice cut in.

“You were in an accident.”

I turned my head toward the deep, unfamiliar voice. Through my blurry vision, I made out a tall figure at the foot of the bed— blonde hair, expensive looking clothes, and a stranger’s face.

My stomach twisted. Who was this man? What was he doing here?

“Miss Allen. I’m Marko Giorgio,” he said, his deep voice formal and controlled. “I'm the one who hit you.” A pause. “I’m so sorry for my actions. I’ll do anything to make this right.”

My mind struggled to catch up, then the memories started coming back to me in fragments—the headlights, the screeching tires, the wet pavement beneath me.

I felt a knot tighten in my chest—it hadn't been a dream.

“How are you feeling?” The man—Marko—asked, and I noticed he'd moved close to the bed. Too close.

Julia noticed too and she subtly shifted, putting herself between us.

“I…” I tried to speak, but I couldn't conjure up words. My head felt like it was about to be split open, and the walls of the room seemed to close in on me.

I could feel the heaviness in the air, and my heart raced as I tried to make sense of what he was saying.

“Diane, do you remember anything? Anything at all?” Julia said, her voice bringing me back to the present moment.

I looked at her, my heart beating so fast in my chest that I feared it might explode.

And that was when the realization of the break up hit me.

Luca.

At the thought of his name, the memories of everything came rushing back to me like a storm. Lucas' face, his voice, and the coldness in his eyes as he told me to move on. I'd remembered the restaurant, and the way people had stared at me when I walked aimlessly on the street.

My stomach churned and I sat up quickly, so quickly that the room spun.

I had to be certain that the restaurant scene had been a bad dream.

“How long was I out?” my voice cracked.

Julia’s face tightened. “Two days, Diane. You've been unconscious for two days.”

Two days?

“Where's my phone?” I demanded.

“I’ll cover all your medical expenses,” the man said suddenly, as if this was somehow relevant to my panic. “And anything else you need. Physical therapy. Medication. Whatever—”

“I just need my phone,” I cut him off sharply, my voice sharp.

“Diane, slow down,” Julia said as she placed her hand on my shoulder in an attempt to lay me back on the bed. “You need to rest—”

“No,” I snapped, and I instantly felt bad. “I need my phone, Julia. Please,” I said, softer this time.

She hesitated, her eyes darting to Marko, who took a small step back as if he didn't want to intrude. Finally, she walked across the room to where my purse was, reached into it, and handed me my phone.

I muttered a thank you as I collected it, my hands trembling slightly as I unlocked it.

Luca hadn’t spoken to me all day. He was worried about me. He hadn't known that I'd been in an accident. I just had to tell him, and he was going to show up—just like he always did.

He'd apologize for not being here and tell me he loved me, just like he always did.

The restaurant was just some sick, twisted joke that hadn't happened anyway.

I started dialing his number, muttering my delusions under my breath. “He’s going to pick up. He's going to be here. He wouldn't just leave me like this. He loves me.”

My best friend stood there, looking at me with confusion all over her face. “Diane…what are you talking about?”

I laughed, but it sounded hysterical in my ears. “He was just joking, that's all. He's going to come here and everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

I placed the call, but it went straight to voicemail.

I tried again, but it was the same thing.

My fingers hovered over the screen and I stared at his name, my heart pounding loudly in my chest. I opened our text thread and typed a quick message.

I’m in the hospital. Call me.

I hit send, but the message wouldn't deliver. I tried over and over again, but the result was the same. My texts were not delivered.

“No.” The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it, my voice cracking.

“Diane?” Julia said with a cautious tone, but I could hear the worry behind her voice.

“He…”

The phone slipped from my fingers and my hands fell to my lap as the realization hit me like a punch to my gut.

Luca had broken up with me. He’d blocked my number and he wasn't coming.

It had been real all along. Not a dream.

“Diane, what’s going on?” Julia sat on the bed beside me, her face searching mine.

I looked up at her, tears blurring my vision and my voice breaking as I spoke. “He…He really left me, Julia. He broke up with me.”

Julia's eyes widened in shock. “He what?”

“Last night. At dinner. He said—” I hiccuped through a sob. “He said I was a distraction from his career. That he needed focus. And then he just… left.”

“That son of a—“ Julia’s jaw clenched. “I’m going to kill him. I’m going to find him and—“

“He blocked me,” I whispered.

She froze. “He… what?”

“My calls aren’t going through and my texts aren’t delivering,” tears ran down my cheeks. “He blocked my number, Julia. He doesn’t want to hear from me ever again.”

For a moment, Julia looked murderous, then her expression softened, and she pulled me into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry, Diane. I’m so, so, sorry.”

Tears ran down my cheeks uncontrollably, and I sobbed loudly as the weight of everything crashed down on me.

Julia stroked my hair and spoke to me in a soft, soothing voice as I cried into her shoulders, but it did little to ease the pain in my chest.

The stranger stood awkwardly in the corner, his eyes on me and his hands in his pocket as he watched us with a mixture of guilt, discomfort, and something else I couldn't name.

“I don't understand,” I forced the words out between sobs. “We were supposed to be together forever. How could he… just leave?”

Julia didn't have an answer. She just held me there, whispering that it was going to be okay, even though I couldn't see how it would ever be.

Just then, the door opened, and the sound of footsteps made me pull away as I wiped my eyes. A bald doctor walked in, his expression professional but kind. He glanced between the three of us before his gaze settled on me.

“Miss Allen,” he glanced at the tablet in his hands, then back at me, his brow furrowing slightly. “I’m Dr. Patel. I've been overseeing your care since you were admitted.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

He looked between Julia, the stranger, and me. “Would you like privacy for this conversation?”

Privacy? My stomach dropped. “For what?”

He hesitated, and in that hesitation, I knew that something was wrong.

“There’s something you need to know about your test results.”

My heart hammered. “What is it? Is something broken? Do I need surgery?”

“No. Nothing like that.” He set the tablet beside the tray on the table. “Miss Allen, did you know you were pregnant?”

The words hung in the air like a foreign language I needed a moment to translate.

Pregnant.

Pregnant.

“What?” The word came out as a whisper.

“You are approximately eight weeks along. We ran a standard pregnancy test as part of your blood work, and—”

“That’s not possible,” I shook my head, my voice rising. “Run the test again—”

“We did run it twice, Miss Allen. I wanted to be certain before telling you.” His voice was gentle, but firm. “You’re pregnant. But fortunately, the baby appears to be unharmed, despite the trauma you experienced.”

Julia’s hand tightened around mine. “Oh my god.”

“No.” I couldn't breathe. “No, no, this isn't— you're wrong—”

Then I began counting backwards in my head.

Eight weeks ago. Two months.

The night before Luca started his new internship. We’d celebrated with wine and promises and—

Oh God.

This couldn't be happening.

Not now. Not like this. Not when he'd just—

“Luca,” I whispered, the name breaking apart in my mouth.

I looked down at my phone.

He'd left me, and now I was carrying his child.

Dr. Patel was saying something about prenatal vitamins and follow up appointments, but his words blurred into static.

I just sat there, one hand pressed to my stomach, feeling nothing and everything at once.

I had Luca’s baby growing inside me while he blocked my number and moved on with his life.

“I can’t do this,” I whispered after the doctor had left, and the stranger quietly excused himself. “It can't stay.”

Julia’s voice was fierce. “Yes, you can, because I won't have you risking your life, Diane.”

“He’s gone, Julia. He left me. How am I supposed to—“

“You are not alone.” She gripped my shoulders, making me look at her. “Do you hear me? You are not alone. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

I wanted to believe her.

I needed to believe her.

Because if I didn’t, I’d drown.