Until he met his daughter’s blue eyes for the first time in nearly six months.
“Hey, darling,” he greets softly before plunging Petra into a hug. “I missed you so much,” I hear him saying in a broken voice.
“I’m sorry…” she mumbles, sniffling against his shoulder.
“Hey, it’s not your fault. You are finally awake, that’s all that matters.” I’ve never seen Roy being so soft, compassionate, and friendly. It’s good to see this side of him for once. Then, with a contemplative smile, he asks, “How are you feeling?”
“Um, I’m okay… A bit dizzy, but I guess that’s from the medicine.” I notice how Petra tries to hide her left hand as Roy releases her from his embrace. “Dad, I…” She then glances over at me. “I have to tell you something.”
“I already know.”
“Oh…” Her eyes widen in surprise. “You do?”
“Well…” He presses his lips against her forehead, swallowing the bitter remarks he might hold against the engagement. “If that’s what you want, I’m happy for you.” My lips curve up at his comment; it’s a decent one. One that makes my fiancée smile at him and give him another hug.
“Thank you so much. It means a lot to me,” she tells him, her eyes closed as she rests her head on his shoulder.
What a pity that Roy doesn’t mean it.
I remain leaning against the doorframe of my bedroom, observing the dearest person of my life as she talks to her father about the engagement party. There are no words to describe such a miracle. Petra is alive, so alive.
Seeing Dr. Nel ready to leave the bedroom, I discreetly ask, “May we have a word before you go?”
She cringes at the question, knowing all too well the subject of the conversation. Nevertheless, she agrees, and we leave the bedroom in a frigid silence, making our way to my office.
There, I open the door, inviting her in. “Please, make yourself at home.” Dr. Nel enters the room, already on guard, her face unsmiling as I close the door behind us. The air between us is as cold as her glare. “Have a seat.” But she just looks at the armchair and sofa with suspicion. “May I offer you a drink?” I ask still, trying to warm the atmosphere.
She lets out a breath while I open the decanter and pour some Macallan in a glass.
“I won’t be telling Tess about the engagement, if that’s what you are worried about.”
Ah, I forgot how direct she is. “I’m not worried about the engagement,” I say, adding an ice sphere to my drink. “Because you won’t tell her anything.” I take a first sip, my lips curving up at the taste. “Not even that Petra is awake.”
“Tess has the right to know that!” she barks immediately. “She’s her mother.”
“And a fucking threat,” I reply just as fast, glaring at her.
“She pays me the same as you. I owe her the truth.”
“You don’t owe her anything. The only person you owe the truth to is to your patient—to Petra.” Dr. Nel drops her gaze to the floor, pondering my words. “She’s the only one who has to decide if she wants to see Tess or not.”
“Petra needs to start physiotherapy,” she announces, most likely to switch the subject of our conversation. “At least thirty minutes a day to make sure she recovers as fast as possible from her atrophy.” She then opens her briefcase, taking a business card out. “This is the doctor I told you about.”
“We’ll do as you recommend. You may call her now.”
Despite my instruction, she keeps studying me behind her big frames. “And she needs her mother.” She draws in a breath before exhaling loudly again, this time her head shaking. “Not an engagement party.” The room falls into a twitchy silence at her unsolicited comment. “I’ll make the appointment with the physiotherapist today,” she says.
“Perfect. Many thanks.” I brush her off.
Then Dr. Nel finally leaves, taking her disapprobation away from my sight.
Chapter 2
Bedford Hills, August 27, 2020
Petra Van Gatt
It’s a strange feeling to be alive again, especially because when you are in a coma, you don’t even realize you are no longer a part of this world. When I close my eyes, though, all I can see is the reality of my nightmare—being in Manhattan, but only with Mom, while Dad and Alex are gone… Jeez, I remember absolutely everything about it as if I were still there. Despite Dr. Nel saying it was just a way for me to escape my subconscious, I’m pretty sure I didn’t have that nightmare out of nowhere. After all, nightmares and dreams do tend to mean something.
“Is there something troubling you? You seem worried.”
My gaze lands on Dad, who is still sitting on a chair, softly stroking my hair. He hasn’t left the bedroom since he arrived, but he’s been quiet for a while, doing nothing but contemplating me with a twinkle in his eye.
But my attention shifts toward the sound of a knock on my door. And after Dad orders the person to come in, we are welcomed by a bunch of new faces. Accompanied by Dr. Nel, my nurse Cynthia, and Alex, my new physiotherapist and her assistant are introduced to me.
“Petra, this is Dr. Jade, your new physiotherapist, and her technical assistant, Kylie,” Nel explains.
“You may just call me Jade. How are you? Nel told me you are suffering from atrophy, especially in your legs. Have you tried to stand up yet?”
“Hi, Jade. No, not yet,” I reply. “My lower body feels like stone.”
“Let’s take a closer look. May I?” Dr. Jade pulls down the sheet and starts pressing her fingers into my legs. “Do you feel anything?”
“Yes.” And I’m quite relieved I do.
She then moves to my knees and does the same. “And here?”
“Yep.”
Then she moves to my feet and squeezes them. “And here?”
“I do.”
Afterward, she takes my right leg and bends it. “If I bend your leg like this, does it hurt?”
“Nope.”
With a smile on her face, she says, “Good. It seems your muscles are just very weak. We’ll start today with electrical stimulation on your legs so you can at least bend your knees and do some basic movements. It’s fundamental that you do daily workouts and trainings to develop your muscles. I also recommend you do aquatic rehabilitation at least three times a week and eat a diet rich in protein.” Dr. Nel nods and adds everything to her notebook. “If you follow everything, you should be able to walk within a week or two. Not run, not jump, but at least walk.”
“Do you think I can start back at Columbia this fall?” I ask her. “It’d be great if I could get back to a normal life as soon as possible.”
Dad, Alex, and everyone else in the room fall into a weird silence, as if I said the craziest thing in the world. They even look at each other without saying a word.
“Did I say something wrong?” I ask, my gaze landing on Dad.
“Petra,” Alex starts. “Um, did anyone tell her?”
“Tell me what?” My question goes to everyone, but no one seems to want to answer.