Tangled Love

CHAPTER 90

I'm unsure on how many days have passed.

Is it even days? Maybe it's been weeks.

It feels like long dragged out years.

I sigh heavily and rub my eyes forcing them to stay awake. I haven't left her side, only to shower and get a change of clothes. I spend every night clutching her hand tightly and making do with the uncomfortable chair next to her bed. I'd been sat on it for so long, my arse has definitely left an imprint on the murky brown leather.

My eyes are heavy, hours of spending long nights and days awake by her bedside praying for her to wake up. The dark circles underneath my eyes are obvious and my face is drawn in, pale and ghostly.

I can't eat and I definitely can't sleep. I'm a living zombie, watching the world go by whilst my own seemed to be one big blur.

How could I possibly sleep when every time I close my eyes the gunshot would echo loudly?

It would play continuously on a loop like some sick horror movie that's purpose was to torture. The door opens and Emily's doctor, Doctor Green walks in. He nods in my direction, giving me a warm smile as he usually does.

"Any more news?" I ask the doctor as he does his usual daily checks. Every day I ask the same question and every day the response would be the exact same. . . No change yet.

The doctor looks at me sympathetically and shakes his head causing my disappointment to deepen.

The coma that she's in is caused by the amount of blood she

be the same Emily?

be able to walk, talk and laugh like she

an inch and stood in front of her shielding her from the bullet, things would have been so different. It would

home and get some rest Jake?"

words are spoken softer this time, holding more sympathy. I shake my head in response.

need to be here for when she wakes up, I can't leave

throat before

the steady beeps

her arm up gently before tucking myself in beside her. I drape my arm over her stomach and breathe in her warm scent, the only

makes me feel worse. I feel defeated watching her knowing I can't do anything to help. I sometimes talk to her, when I'm feeling lonely and miss the sound of her voice. I talk to her about silly things, the football or her favourite cooking show. She'd lie there

away the tears. It becoming harder and harder to keep myself together and I'm worried that when she does finally wake up, I won't be strong enough

head closer to her.

I whisper, my tone begging and desperate.

Titanic together and I won't make fun of you when you cry. I'll take you out to the fanciest restaurant in town and we can have a proper date. I won't ruin it this time, I promise. I'll wear a suit and we'll take you shopping to find the most beautiful dress because you're the

downtown, you know the one with the live band? I've got to admit though. . . I have two left feet, I'd probably end up tripping over every second and

little things like lying in bed with our arms and legs all tangled up, me annoying her so much she'd eventually stop talking to me until I

understand me like no-one else, when I'm around you, I feel amazing. I feel

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