My Heart Skipped in the Recovery Room
The first time I met him, he was lying in the recovery room after surgery,
looking weak and lifeless. But strangely, my heart skipped in a way I hadn't felt in three years.
I tried to act professional, but every time I stood beside him to check his vital signs or give his medications,
my heart reacted in ways I couldn't explain. I couldn't even look him in the face without feeling shy.
One small moment led to another until I finally gathered the courage to ask him for his number.
But as his recovery improved and his discharge day approached, I couldn't stop asking myself one question:
Would our story end at the hospital, or was this just the beginning?