His fingers moved. One, then two.
His pupils struggled to free themselves from his glued eyelids. His fingers moved again—this time, four. “Gavin?”
His brows cringed. Whoever it was that came to disturb the beautiful moment. He had just received the news of Molly’s delivery.
It was a beautiful girl, like the nurse described—his daughter.
The first product of his union with his wife. “Baby open your eyes for mommy. Please.”
He could recognise that voice even in his dream. It was Imelda Webb—his darling mother. The one person he could never refuse.
Opening his eyelids, lights from above attacked him and he quickly shut them tight. He tried again. And again until his eyes adjusted to the light. Opening his eyes at last, a frown appeared on his face as he came face to face with a white POP ceiling his and Molly’s didn’t have. They only lived in a small apartment and they were still happy and that was all that mattered. “Oh My God!” His mother exclaimed beside him in tears, “I must be dreaming it. My baby’s awake.”
Gavin scanned the room with his eyes and cringed his nostrils at the smell of antiseptics.
He was in a hospital? “Mom?” he called, surprised when his voice came out in a hoarse whisper, “What happened? Why am we here?”
Imelda looked at her son with tear-stained eyes, “You don’t remember anything?”
In his head, the scene of the accident began to replay.
He gasped, “Oh my gosh! Molly! Our wedding!”
In a flash, he roughly pushed away the saline tube connected to his wrist and pushed aside the blanket. “Gavin Webb. What in heaven’s name are you doing?” She scolded. “I have a wedding to prepare for, mom. I am yet to finish— “His feet wobbled the minute they touched the ground but he was quick enough to support his weight on the bed before he fell. “Easy, boy.”
What the hell is going on?
Why did he feel like some toddler that was taking his first steps? “Mom?” This time, his voice was shaking with fear, “What’s going on?” “Calm down, Gav.” She soothed, “I can explain.”
Gavin opened his mouth to say something but stopped when he heard approaching footsteps. The door knob turned and the door opened. “Aunt, I’ve told you several times that coming here to cry your eyes out won’t wake him up. You would only keep hurting yourself.” A feminine voice resounded.
Gavin felt his heart do a backflip. Butterflies filled his stomach, fluffing their wings hard.
That voice.
He could never forget it even in death. The sweet soprano voice that brought new life to him. That made him feel unlimited joy. That voice…
Molly walked to the cupboard at the far end of the room as she spoke. She didn’t need to look towards the bedside to know Imelda was crying her eyes out again. Holding the fruit basket, she had brought in one hand, she began to arrange its contents carefully on the cupboard oblivious of the pairs of eyes that followed her. “Babe? Molly is that you?”
Molly froze and her hand still on the fruit basket went rigid.
Was she dreaming it?... or was that voice for real?
Her entire body shuddered. She found it difficult to breathe, taking in large gust of air to calm herself down. Gavin was awake?
Gavin Webb is awake!
It just didn’t make sense to her. It seemed so impossible—like a blockbuster action movie. “Gavin? You’re finally awake?” she called out in a teary voice.
Gavin grinned like a school boy who got an A in a maths quiz for the first time and spread his arms wide, impatient to have her in his arms again. Impatient to claim her to himself. “Come here, Hun.”
Bracing herself for the upcoming scene, Molly took a deep breath and turned to face him...
