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Added: Aug 06
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Black marriage  - Season 1 - Episode 69
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Source: coolval
Silence stretched out and tension was at its peak as everyone held their breaths waiting for the doctor’s response. The doctor seemed to have frozen on the spot he was standing and for one second, he seemed like a frozen mummy statue.

“Well, Doctor?” Lizzy yelled impatiently. Andy’s face had already drained, leaving him white as he expected a response from the doctor but got none. It could only mean one thing.

Doctor Bright shook himself, the shock of seeing Andy and his father all at once had rendered him speechless. He cleared his throat. “She is still alive but very critical.” He swallowed. “Very critical” He repeated. “She is in a coma now and we have done all we can do for her now. All she needs now is prayers. We expect a reaction soon. I don’t mean to scare you but she is not fighting hard enough, or so it seems. I-”
“I want to see her” Andy interrupted, not wanting to hear more. He felt like he had died a million times and gone to hell.
“She needs-”
“I need to see her” Andy stressed the ‘need’ because he felt that if he did not see her instantly, he would literally die.
Doctor Bright swallowed and nodded. “Come with me sir”

Andy hated the ‘sir’ that was accorded to him but he did not have the time to dwell on it or even to tell the doctor to call him by name. It was very evident that the doctor was older than Andy but Andy was ready to answer anything as long as it took him to Jessica. The doctor opened the door and entered with Andy closely behind. Immediately he was in the same room with Jessica, all his bravery was gone and tears brimmed his eyes. He moved like a robot towards the bed, feeling all his strength drain away. Seeing Jessica attached to so many machines shook him much more than anything. She looked terribly pale and astoundingly vacant.

“I would leave you alone with her. Please try not to disturb her in any way. There is a button by her bed over there, press it if there is any reaction”.
Andy barely heard the doctor as he spoke and vaguely noticed him as he left. He lowered himself onto the chair beside the bed because he could barely stand on his feet. He raised his left hand shakily and brushed Jessica’s hair gently, careful not to move her in anyway. The texture of the hair was as he remembered. He remembered burying is hands and nose in the rich mass of hair just this morning. How things change within the space of a heartbeat, he mused. He picked up her hand with his right hand and ran his thumb over her knuckles shakily. Her hand was warm and very pale. He bent his head and kissed her knuckles.

“My love” he breathed and almost choked as tears threatened to gush out. He inhaled and swallowed. “My heart, it is me; Drew” he continued. “Do you remember that day during our honeymoon that you decided to prepare the dinner? I had come back from work feeling hungry and the aroma of fried chicken had greeted me at the entrance. That day, you had entered my senses and refused to come out.”

He sniffed and smiled slightly. “You had been standing in the kitchen with your back to me, seeing to the meal, not noticing my presence. You wore one of those terrible oversized gowns I hate so much, in your quest to look ugly.
When you finally saw me and I asked for chicken, you had smacked my hand playfully. Do you remember that?”

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