Epilogue One

ONE YEAR AFTER COMA…

CLEMENTINE

The hospital cafeteria at four in the morning was always the same. Quiet. Still. The hum of the fluorescent lights overhead blended with the occasional clang of a tray or the low murmur of tired conversations. It was far from cozy, but for me, it had become a haven during long double shifts.

I sat at a corner table, staring at nothing in particular. My body ached from the hours I’d already put in, and the thought of the hours still ahead made my shoulders sag. Yet, there was a contentment in the weariness tonight—a sense of gratitude that settled in my chest like an old friend.

A familiar hiss of the automatic doors made me glance up, and there he was.

My man.

My husband.

Leyland strolled in, a coffee cup in each hand and a crooked smile on his handsome face. He looked out of place in the clinical setting, wearing sweats and a matching hoodie with Nike slides and socks on. Yet, the sight of him sent a surge of energy through me, banishing the fatigue, if only for a little while.

“You really have to stop spoiling me,” I said as he approached, setting one of the cups down in front of me.

He smirked, sliding into the seat across from me.

“Never gonna happen.”

I wrapped my hands around the cup, the warmth seeping into my palms.

“How do you always manage to time this perfectly?”

“It’s a gift,” he said, taking a sip of his own drink. “Or maybe I’ve just got the schedule of every double shift you take memorized.”

The teasing glint in his eyes made me laugh, shaking my head.

“I’m convinced you just like seeing me miserable at this time.”

“Not miserable,” he corrected, leaning forward slightly. “Determined. There’s a difference.”

I rolled my eyes, but the affection in his tone always did me in.

We sat in an intimate silence for a few minutes, the aroma of fresh coffee mingling with the cafeteria’s faint smell of reheated food. I watched him as he tore into the muffin I hadn’t and wouldn’t eat, his movements unhurried, even as his gaze occasionally flicked up to meet mine.

It had been a year since Leyland woke from his coma, but sometimes it still felt like yesterday. So much had changed—our routines, our priorities—but at the core of it all was this: him showing up for me, reminding me with every small gesture that I wasn’t alone.

“You know,” he said, breaking the silence, “you could just quit these double shifts and save me the trip.”

“And deprive you of your favorite excuse to bring me overpriced coffee?” I shot back, arching a brow.

He chuckled, reaching across the table to feed me some of the muffin.

“Fair point. One bite and I’ll feel better.”

I wrapped my lips around his fingers and took what was in it.

His grin faded slightly as he studied me, his expression softening.

“You okay? You look more tired than usual.”

I sighed, still chewing.

“Long day. I should’ve rethought this promotion…” I trailed off, shrugging. “It’s a lot.”

Leyland nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. “You know you can stop anything you start, right? I know you love being in your position, even though it’s a lot most days. What you do saved me and countless others, but whatever you decide, you don’t have to figure it out alone. I’m here, no matter what.”

His words wrapped around me like a promise, easing some of the tension in my chest. I reached across the table, brushing my fingers against his.

“Thank you, superstar. I can always count on you to make it all better.”

As the minutes ticked closer to the end of my break, he leaned back in his chair, his gaze thoughtful.

“You know,” he began, his voice quieter, “a year ago, I didn’t know if I’d ever get to do this. Sit here with you, share a coffee, watch you pretend not to hate being awake at this hour.”

I smiled, shaking my head.

He continued, his tone steady.

“But now? I wouldn’t trade this for anything. Not a damn thing.”

The weight of his words pressed gently against my heart, and I squeezed his hand, unable to speak for a moment.

“You’re my favorite part of all of this, Leyland,” I said finally, my voice soft but certain.

His lips curved into a smile, and he lifted his cup.

“Here’s to never doing mornings alone again.”

I lifted mine to meet his and then stood.

“Walk me back?”

“Is that a question?”

I smiled and shook my head. It wasn’t because he always did.

The walk back to my unit was slow, neither of us in a rush to let go of the moment. Leyland draped his arm around my shoulders as we strolled down the quiet corridor, his presence steadily easing the fatigue that had settled in my bones.

When we reached the nurses’ station in the ED, he stopped and turned to me, his fingers brushing my cheek. “Get through the rest of this shift, and I’ll have breakfast waiting for you at home,” he said.

I laughed softly, leaning into his touch. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“You love me,” he replied simply, his gaze locking with mine. “And, I love you.”

And just like that, the exhaustion faded.

As I watched him leave, I felt the familiar swell of gratitude I’d carried since the moment he woke up. Life wasn’t perfect, but with Leyland, it was ours—and that was more than enough.