I sat on the hospital bed. The clock was creeping toward midnight.
I had asked them to call Emily and Mark, but no one came. Maybe they forgot. Or maybe they just didn't want to see me.
I stared at the ceiling, hoping the door would open. Hoping anyone would walk in.
Finally, it did. But it wasn't them.
Just the doctor.
I sighed quietly as she stepped in.
"I'm sorry, John," she said gently. "It seems… your wife and son don't want to speak to you anymore."
I lowered my gaze. I didn't flinch. I just nodded.
"It's okay," I whispered. "Who could blame them… for what I've done?"
She lingered for a moment, then quietly left the room.
I closed my eyes again, not to sleep — just to make the ache go away.
---
Birdsong woke me.
The clock on the wall read 5:00 a.m.
I sat up. My body still trembled, but I could move more than yesterday. I walked slowly toward the phone on the wall. There was another phone beside it — mine. Cracked, but functional.
I picked it up and dialed Emily's number.
She answered. And then hung up without a word.
I wanted to call again. But… I didn't.
I didn't want to be a nuisance. Not anymore.
I sat back on the bed, staring at my hands.
A doctor entered soon after and said, "John, you're cleared to leave today. But you'll need to come back for checkups three times a week."
I nodded.
"I'll call someone to pick you up," she offered kindly.
I stopped her. "No… it's alright. I'll go on my own. Please don't trouble anyone."
She hesitated, then nodded.
I changed into some clothes they'd left for me. They didn't feel like mine, but they'd do.
---
The taxi ride was quiet.
When we arrived at the mansion, the driver said, "That'll be four dollars."
I reached into my pocket and found a crumpled ten.
I handed it to him. "Keep the change," I said. "Have a good day."
"Thanks," he said, driving off.
I stepped inside.
There on the couch was Nana. Still waiting.
"Nana," I called softly.
Her ears twitched. She turned and ran toward me, tail wagging wildly.
I knelt and hugged her, gently petting her fur. I kissed her on the forehead.
"I missed you," I whispered.
---
Then I went upstairs.
Each step felt heavier than the last. My legs ached, but I kept going.
When I reached our bedroom, Emily was sitting on the bed, staring at her phone.
She didn't even look up.
"Hi," I said quietly.
No response.
I sat at the edge of the bed, facing away from her. I stared at the floor.
"Hey, Emily… I'm sorry."
Still nothing.
I took a breath, steadying my voice.
"I didn't know you felt that way. I didn't see it. I only talked about myself back then… I didn't want to hurt you with those words. But I couldn't stop myself. I didn't understand why."
I looked down at my hands, voice shaking.
"I'm sorry… for everything. For what I said. For what I put you through. I didn't imagine it went so deep. I just thought of myself… not you. Not Mark. I was blind."
Silence.
"If you just give me another chance," I said softly, "I could try to do something better. Not perfect. Just… better."
Still no reply.
I stood up and walked toward her. She didn't look at me.
I gently reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.
Then, quietly, I leaned in and kissed her there.
"I hope… at least this could show I'm trying," I whispered. "If not… I understand. But I tried. I truly did."