5: A Decision To Live

Alora

As I lay in the large hospital room. The beautiful view outside gave me a strange sense of peace, even though a sharp nervous pang tugged at me from inside.

I knew beyond doubt that I was going to make it. I wasn’t going to give up anymore. I wanted to fight.

Behind the glass door stood Doctor Stanley, alongside another doctor he was speaking with. In his arms was a file I knew belonged to me. He was talking and then turned to look at me through the window.

He could feel my fear, because he stopped talking, handed the file to the other doctor, and walked into my room.

He put his hands into the pockets of his white coat.

“You’re thinking you won’t survive the surgery, right?” he asked, smiling gently.

That smile stirred up hope in my heart, even though the dread that had settled there weighed heavier.

“Yes, I am,” I admitted, looking away.

I noticed sadness in his eyes. He sighed and reached for my hand. I slowly looked at him.

“You need to fight, Alora. You need to make them pay for what they did. I know it’s a fifty-fifty chance, but you must believe you’ll survive. That belief is your best chance,” he said, his eyes full of concern.

My heart tightened. Tears rolled down my cheeks.

He was the only one who knew what I was going through, and yet he stood by me? The tears streamed down all the more.

I doubted Lucas would even see the files I had left behind. How could he, when he had chosen to tear my heart apart with his betrayal?

My family was undoubtedly rich and influential, but the news would only break Dad, the reason I hadn’t let him know, not yet.

He might not survive the pain of watching his only child walk the path of death, with such slim chances of survival.

The tears flowed even more down my cheeks, as I let them all out, forcing myself to accept the reality staring at me.

I tapped my chest slightly, assuring myself that I was going to go through with the process. And if I died, then so be it. But if I survived, then that would mark the beginning of their misery, and my rise.

“Do you accept the surgery?” Doctor Stanley’s voice broke through my reverie.

I turned to him.

“Yes, I accept,” I said, my voice firm and determined.

“Good,” he muttered, holding my hand tightly. “Welcome to the world of possibilities.” He slowly let go of my hand and walked out of the room.

A short while later, a group of nurses walked in.

“Ma’am, we’ve been instructed to prepare you for the flight,” one of them said, and I turned to meet her gaze.

“What flight?” I asked, a little confused.

The other nurse smiled, reaching for my arm. “Ma’am, the surgery is taking place abroad. Everything has already been arranged. They’re waiting for your arrival.”

Everything started making sense. It felt more real, and that surge of hope never left my heart. It clung to me like a second layer.

A few hours later, I was on a plane with Doctor Stanley beside me. He had stayed by my side through everything.

He was more support than I could have ever asked for. He was the least Lucas could have been to me after all those years together.

I looked out the window, trying to push away that sharp feeling of regret and dread that wouldn’t stop tugging at me.

I told myself I’d be okay, even if it was my last hope.

“Everything will be just fine,” Stanley said to me, his arms holding mine firmly.

I looked into his eyes. Beyond concern, I saw something else, something deeper than I could explain.

Only time would tell. But first, I wanted more than ever to survive this heart-wrenching trial.

****

Two Years After

The morning sun shone, casting shadows across my face. Its brightness reminded me of the future I had ahead of me.

It had been two painful years. Two freaking years of hoping to live, praying for survival. Two years of waking up with tubes, machines, and endless pain. I felt like I died and came back to life a thousand times.

More like reality than a fairytale.

But today, I sat on a plane, fully healed, returning to the city where it all began.

A small smile appeared on my face as I crossed my arms, waiting for the plane to finally land. Every string in me pulled in excitement, bubbling over more than I could barely contain.

Was it because I was finally back? No. It was because I couldn’t wait to see Dad again. I had pictured his face over and over. Dad and Stanley had been the reason I fought through that darkness, and now I saw a brighter light that held the future I longed for.

Stanley was still with me.

“Welcome back,” he said, smiling.

“Thank you,” I replied.

I was more than grateful that I met him after all.

We entered the car, and the driver drove off. Moments later, I arrived at the mansion. The familiar scent of strawberry and honey hit my nose as I breathed in the peace it carried.

I held the door handle, and memories flooded in, painful feelings from the past that I had swept under the carpet, thinking I would forget them so easily.

I took a deep breath and turned the doorknob. The living room stretched before me, looking just as decent as always. The gold decor and chandeliers were perfectly in place, just as they had been two years ago.

Then my eyes fell on Dad, seated on the master two-seater couch. He lifted his gaze to meet mine, and his smile broadened the moment he saw me. His arms opened wide, and I leapt into his embrace, tears streaming down my cheeks.

“Where have you been?” he asked, his voice shaking but firm.

“I…I…” I tried to speak, but my voice only wavered. No words, only silence and the beating of my heart.

I blinked, letting my heart settle with the reality that stared me in the eyes like broad daylight.

More than ever, it was a quick reminder of my struggle, not just to get revenge, but to see his face again. To hold him again.

I picked up my phone and dialed the number I had so dreaded during those dying moments.

“Get the meeting of all stakeholders fixed for noon tomorrow, and make it known that absenteeism will attract immediate withdrawal of partnership.”

My heart stirred in my chest as I dropped the phone. More than ever, I knew I was going through with this, no looking back.

I had stopped being the nice lady two years ago.

The door creaked open, and Stanley stepped in….