Chapter 12

MICHAEL'S POV

It was Sunday morning. I was sitting up on the bed, gazing straight at the plain white wall of my hospital room, and was smiling.

The dull ache in my leg was still there, and the fatigue in my joints had not gone away, yet I was smiling.

The reason for that was because, in my head, I was not really in that hospital room; my thoughts were with just one person, Isabella. I was thinking about my last encounter with her.

“She had come here indeed. It was not a dream.”

“I prayed and hoped and yearned for it, and it happened. She had stood only a few spaces away from me. I heard her voice.”

And to make everything more glorious, she had announced her divorce right in my face. It was not a dream.

A fresh smile crept onto my lips. Every memory of her felt like a balm, soothing the pain in my body.

I replayed the conversations of that blessed morning over and over again. From the ones she had with her brother and parents to the few sentences she spoke to me.

It was more than enou