Casper’s eyelids fluttered open, a slow, arduous process that seemed to take an eternity. When his eyes finally locked onto mine, a wave of pure, unadulterated relief washed over me, so potent it felt like a physical force. Three days. Three agonizing days where every breath I took felt like a betrayal of the one he wasn't. The doctors had been cautiously optimistic, murmuring about good recovery and not worrying too much. But 'not too much' felt like a mountain when your world was teetering on the edge.
And then, he was awake. The words, delivered by a cheerful nurse, hit me like a physical wave. I'd never prayed so fervently, never felt such a profound, soul-deep gratitude. My legs practically flew down the sterile hallway until I burst into his room, my breath hitched in my throat. His
