Liam sat by the hospital bed, his eyes red and his face full of worry as he looked at me. When he saw that I was awake, he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, then his eyes reddened even more, and he couldn't help but shed tears. He reached out to hold my hand.
"Clara, you're awake!" His voice choked with emotion, filled with lingering fear. "The doctor said you lost too much blood and that's why you fell into a coma. I was so scared... Thank goodness you're alright. I almost thought you'd never wake up again!"
He pulled me into his arms, his warm tears falling into the crook of my neck, crying so hard it felt like the world was ending, his emotions so genuine and heartfelt.
But all I felt was a bout of physical nausea.
He was the one who pushed me into hell, he was the one who didn't care about my life or death, so why is he pretending to be all lovey-dovey in front of me now?
I pushed him away without making a sound, the force not strong, but carrying an undeniable distance. I forced a smile, my tone as calm as still water: "I'm fine, you don't need to worry about me."