Page 192 of Wrong Marriage. Right Groom
I clenched my jaw slightly.
“I’m sure he’ll return later today,” Ramiro continued. “And when he does, you can speak to him then. He’ll be... pleased to see you like this.”
To see you.
The phrase echoed oddly in my mind.
I exhaled slowly, the fight draining out of me just as quickly as it had risen. There was no point pushing. Not with Ramiro.
His loyalty was absolute.
And I could already tell... once he decided something, there was no moving him.
“Fine,” I muttered, more to myself than to him.
The door opened before I could say anything else.
A doctor stepped in, his white coat crisp, his expression professional but not unkind.
I watched him approach—watched the way his shoes moved across the floor, the way the light reflected faintly off his glasses.
Even the smallest details felt new.
“Let’s take a look,” he said.
He moved closer, checking the monitors briefly before turning his attention to me. His fingers were steady as he took my wrist, counting my pulse.
“Any pain?” he asked.
“No,” I answered honestly.
“Good.”
He lifted a small penlight, the beam narrow and controlled. “Look straight ahead.”
I did, resisting the instinct to flinch as the light hit my eyes. It was bright, but not painful. Just... intense.
“Follow the light.”
I tracked it as he moved it slowly from side to side, up and down. My vision held steady.
Clear.
“Excellent,” he murmured.
After a few more checks, he straightened and gave a small, satisfied nod.
“You’re healing very well. But your eyes are still adjusting,” he said. “You’ll need to rest them for at least three hours before discharge. Minimal light exposure. No screens. No strain.”
I nodded.
“Understood.”
He offered a brief smile before turning and leaving the room as quietly as he had entered.
And just like that—
Time slowed.
