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BURNING WITH THE WHICK

Days since Seth's accident had drifted by in a blur of hospital visiting hours, sleepless nights, and helplessness that just wouldn't leave. I held vigil hour by hour at his bedside, holding his hand, and praying for his recovery. His condition was stable, they said, but he wasn't really improving, and not knowing was tearing my heart apart. Every time I left the hospital, my apartment seemed unbearably empty and lifeless, so very opposite of the big, full-of-love home Seth and I had been building together.

It was on one of those lonely nights after I had returned home from another long day at the hospital, that I heard somebody knock on my door. My heart jumped with that fleetingly hopeful thought that maybe, just maybe, it was Seth, miraculously recovered and back on his feet. Instead, it was Noah, his face a mix of concern and something else indefinable.

"Noah," I said, surprise and confusion plain in my voice. "What brings you here?"

He didn't wait for an invitation but stepped ins
Neha M

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