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I don’t know if I was ever truly in love with this man, but I know for certain that I loved him. Perhaps more like a friend, someone I could confide in, than a lover.

I sit in the beige faux-leather armchair next to the bed and put my hand over his. His skin is rough; it was probably scrubbed clean to remove the bloodstains. A few are still visible though, and I notice small, brown marks between his fingers. I fight back my tears.

If he wakes up, I don’t want him to see pity or remorse. So, I stay there, motionless and silent, for a small eternity, until a nurse comes in. Then, I slip away to let her do her job.

That’s when my phone rings.

Vadim.

“Hello?”

“Alma? Kate told me someone close to you was hospitalized!”

“Did you make it to London okay?”

I don’t know what possesses me to ask that question.

“Yes, but that’s not important! Who’s in the hospital? Do you need—”

“It’s Raphaël. He was in a car accident… It’s serious, but he’s going to make it.” The words tumble out unfiltered.

“Raphaël?”

“My ex.”

“Your ex?”

“Yes.”

A silence follows.

“Is there anything I can do?” His tone has changed.

“No, thank you. I took the day off. We didn’t keep in touch, but he’s a very good friend of Clémentine’s. I’m here for her, too.”

I hear myself making excuses like a little girl caught doing something she knows she shouldn’t have done.

“Right. Don’t forget that we urgently need to sort out this leak situation.”

“Vadim, my friend almost died!”

“Is he your ex or your friend? Make up your mind.”

“Are you really going to argue over semantics right now?”

“Your private life isn’t supposed to get in the way of your work, Lancaster.”

“I’ve got to go. The doctor wants to speak to me.”

It’s a lie. But if I don’t do something, whatever is developing between the two of us won’t survive this phone call.

During what remains of the morning, I visit Raphaël several times, but he stays asleep the whole time. I chat with his parents; accompany Clem to the bakery next door, where we stuff ourselves with therapeutic pastries; and send a few messages to Lily, checking that she hasn’t skipped her second day at King Productions. Patiently, I wait for the miracle patient to wake up so I can talk to him.

Talk about what, though? I have no idea.

What do you say to someone you once cut out of your life?

Mid-afternoon, Raphaël’s mother comes to the waiting room to tell me he’s asking for me. I leave Clémentine and Niels to continue their debate on microbes—one of my best friend’s many obsessions—and make my way to Room 113, bracing myself as I go.