Chapter TWO : Alive Again

Nicole Garcia.

I was gasping for breath when I opened my eyes, thinking of the horror I was back in that room filled with smoke and fire.

"Nicole...Are you okay?" Warm hands reached out to steady me from stumbling.

I took a deep breath, and instead of smoke, real and clean air filtered into my nostrils. I allowed my eyes to focus on where I was if this was the afterlife...

My eyesight focused, and I found myself standing in a hallway that smelled mostly of bleach. When my cognitive senses came back, I realised that I was in a hospital.

My hands went to my chest, to my arms, to my face. I touched, and there were neither burns nor blisters. My skin was smooth and whole and pale, and I didn't understand. I couldn't understand, because the last thing I remembered was getting buried under a pile of rubble as the fire raged on.

"Nicole."

I heard the voice call my name again, roughly and a little tired, but I was familiar with it. I spun around immediately and my eyes locked on him.

Damian was standing at the end of the corridor. His shirt was untucked, his tie loose and his hair was a mess, sticking up in the back as if he had been running his hands through it all night. The dark circles under his eyes made him look like a man who hadn't slept in days.

Because he hadn't. Because of me.

"Nicole," he said again. "You can't do this. Please....Just listen to me for once."

I stared at him. At his hands, which were shaking. At his jaw, which was tight. At his eyes, which were red around the edges like he'd been crying recently and didn't want anyone to know.

"What date is it?" I heard myself ask before I could stop myself.

His hands that rose to cup my face froze, and he blinked in confusion. "What?"

"What date is it, Damian?"

"February eighteenth." He replied slowly, probably surprised that I was talking calmly to him. "Why does that matter? Nicole, please. That kidney was given to you when you were sixteen. It saved your life. Donating it to someone else could kill you."

February eighteenth. This was eight months before the fire, the day I was supposed to give Justin my kidney because he lied that he was extremely sick and could die anytime from now.

I was back? Back to life? Given a second chance?

"Nicole." Damian's voice cracked. He reached out like he wanted to grab my arm, then pulled his hand back like he thought better of it. "I know you don't love me. Allison's told me as much, more times than I can count. I've accepted that. But please. Please don't throw your life away for him."

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. What was I supposed to say? I died? I laughed when you begged me to live? Allison and Justin killed me?

Behind me, a door opened, and a familiar figure sauntered into the corridor, her eyes bright when they stared at me, but turning dark immediately she spotted Damian.

"Hey, sis." She looked at me sweetly before turning to Damian with a deep frown on her face. "And what are you doing here? Will you scram and just let my sister be?" Then, she turned back to me as if she had already dismissed him and he didn't exist to us anymore. "They're prepping him for surgery," she said, loud enough for the whole corridor to hear. "He's asking for you."

I didn't move. I couldn't move. Not when I knew how this was going to end, and their real motive behind this. Damian's eyes moved between Allison and I, his jaw tightening as he stepped closer to me.

"Nicole," he said, softer now and still begging. "You have to think about this again."

Allison stepped into the corridor and walked a few steps closer, her heels clicking on the tiles.

She gave Damian a dirty look. "Why are you really still here, Damian?" She cocked her head to the side. "How many times does my sister have to tell you that she isn't interested in this marriage with you? Why don't you just sign the divorce papers and let my sister live happily with the man who is her closest friend?"

"Stay away from this, Allison." Damian shot at her before his eyes softened on looking at me. "I will sign the divorce papers, but just don't harm yourself. Please, Nicole. That kidney was your second chance at life."

If only he knew this was my third chance now. I stared at this man that had devoted his life and love at me, love I had never known how to hold onto because I never knew who was lying to me and who wasn't.

"Okay..." I responded softly without even looking at Allison. "Let's go home."

The relief in his eyes was immediate, and even when he tried to hide his shock that I had accepted to go home with him, his eyes watered slightly in happiness.

"Sis?" Allison's nasal voice reached my ears as she reached out her slender hand to wrap around my wrist, and she held me a little tightly. "Where are you going with him? To dump him and lock him up in the house so he wouldn't follow you?"

"Allison—" I almost snapped at her, but her mouth was rushing really fast.

"I know you don't love him, sis." She stared at me lovingly. "You wouldn't have gotten rid of the bastard child you had for him two months ago. So, it's better he knows now and gets over himself. How low can a man go even when the woman has stated clearly that she doesn't want to have anything to do with you?"

I felt my blood run cold. The fuck was she talking about?

Damien had gone completely still beside me, his face had pale.

"And the best part," Allison continued, pushing off the wall, walking closer to Damian, "is that she didn't even tell you. She was just going to let you go on thinking she was faithful, thinking she was trying, when really she was busy getting rid of evidence that you ever mattered." She scoffed. "So, I think it's better that you get home by yourself instead of letting her do the honours of dumping you there and coming back to the man she really loves!"

"Allison, that's not what happened," I said, my voice shaking as I tried to push past her, tried to get to Damian before this went any further. "Damian, listen to me, please, I tried to tell you—"

Allison's grip on my wrist tightened, cutting me off, angling her body so she stood between us. "Am I lying?" She turned to me, eyebrows raised, not giving me an inch to reach him. "Did you or did you get pregnant last March? Did you or did you not lose the baby?"

"I did," I said, "but I never said I didn't want it, I never told you I—" I tried to step around her, tried to catch Damian's eye, but Allison shifted again, blocking me, her voice rising louder than mine every time I opened my mouth.

Damian, on the other hand, was looking at me now over her shoulder. Waiting for me to answer.

"Nicole," he said, and his voice was so quiet. "Is it true?"

It broke me terribly, especially when I remembered his dream of having children with the woman he loved when we were growing up.

"Damian, let me explain—" I tried to move toward him but Allison's hand was still locked around my wrist, holding me back just enough, just long enough.

"Were you pregnant? Is it true?"

Tears clouded my vision. "Yes," I said. "But that's not the whole—Damian, please, just let me finish—"

He didn't let me finish. "The night we got drunk at your parents' anniversary," he was saying, and his voice had gotten hollow. "You said you wanted to try. You said maybe we could make it work. You held my hand, Nicole. You actually held my hand."

"Well, Dumbo. She played you. Isn't that obvious?" Allison cut in before I could get a single word out, her voice sharp and fast, drowning mine out entirely. "She just wanted to see how easy you were to sleep with. And trust me, she regretted it instantly."

"That's not true," I said, louder now, desperate. "Damian, I tried to call you that week, I swear I did, I don't know why you never—"

It wasn't until Damian's shoulders sagged in defeat that I knew that it was over.

"Damian...please. I swear to you, it's not like that... I tried to tell you..."

He took a step back from me. "Every word that night... every touch, you made me believe there was hope." His voice cracked. "And you were pregnant. With my child. And I never knew until right now."

"I tried, Damian. I swear I tried."

"Then why didn't I hear it from you?" His voice rose, just a little, and his hands were shaking again. "Why did I have to hear it like this? I've spent three years trying to understand you, trying to love you, trying to be enough for you, and I still don't know what happened between us. Why couldn't you just tell me?"

I had no answer that he would believe, not standing here with Allison's fingers still digging into my wrist and her version of events already sitting between us like a wall. Whatever I had tried before, whatever I had meant to say, it hadn't reached him. And now it was too late to make him hear it.

"That's what I thought," he said before giving me one last look and turning around.

"Damian, please…"

He walked down the corridor and his footsteps echoed off the tiles. He didn't stop.

"Damian!"

Allison finally let go of my arm. Her fingers were cold. "Good riddance," she said before she frowned at me. "What is wrong with you today? Do you suddenly like that thing? I'm helping you get rid of it here." She dragged me gently into the ward. "Now come on, Justin's waiting."

But I didn't budge as I stared at the empty corridor in front of me. The man who loved me had just walked away, and I hadn't been given the chance to say the one thing that might have stopped him.