I woke up with a heavy head and a chest that still felt slightly tight. But I was no longer in the elevator.

Soft lamplight hit my face—warm yellow, not cold white emergency light. I was lying on a long grey sofa, and across the room, two figures were speaking quietly.

Kenny stood with his arms crossed in front of a large desk. His face was tense, his jaw locked. In front of him, an old man in a white coat was writing something on a small tablet.

From the way they spoke, I knew the man was a doctor.

"...an acute attack, but she was lucky you were quick," the doctor said calmly. "Make sure she doesn't get too stressed. The air in a confined elevator can trigger another attack."

Kenny only nodded slowly. His voice was low and heavy when he answered, "I won't let that happen again."

The tone of his voice made the air in the room feel even quieter.

The doctor looked at him for a moment, then left. The automatic door closed softly behind him, leaving behind an odd silence.

I remained still. Not yet daring to open my eyes fully. My body was still weak, but my consciousness was fully intact.

I could hear Kenny's breathing. Deep. Steady. But there was something beneath it—something that sounded like... fear.

I slowly opened my eyes. And when our gazes finally met, his eyes froze.

That blue light was no longer cold as usual. There was something else there—a mix of relief, anger, and something I didn't even dare to name.

"Thank you," I said softly, my voice still hoarse. "You saved me. I almost died because of my own carelessness." Slowly, I opened my eyes fully, trying to push my body up to sit. My muscles felt weak and heavy.

Kenny didn't answer immediately. He stood near the water dispenser in the corner of the room, pouring hot water into a cup. His tall figure was reflected in the windowpane. After the tea was ready, he walked over and placed it on the small table next to the sofa.

"Drink this first," he said, his voice lower than usual, almost a whisper.

I lifted the cup with both hands, which were still trembling. Its warmth spread through the porcelain, soothing me. I raised the cup and sipped the warm tea slowly. The liquid flowed soothingly down my throat, which still felt stiff.

Then, suddenly, my consciousness returned fully. My eyes widened. "My bag! The bag with Nicholas's lunch—where is it?"

Kenny wasn't surprised. "The one with the bento box? I already delivered it to Nicholas's desk."

"I want to—"

"Just rest," he interrupted, his tone gentle yet authoritative. "You almost died earlier." He stood before me, blocking my view as if preventing me from standing up. "I've contacted Nicholas. He knows about your condition."

"You... you contacted him?"

"Of course. As your fiancé, he has the right to know." But there was something in the way he said "your fiancé"—flat, almost like mentioning an empty title.

He took the empty cup from me. "Now, close your eyes. The doctor said you need rest."

"But—"

"No 'buts'." He leaned closer, looking at me seriously. "You can be angry at me later, protest to me later, but for now, rest."

---

I tried desperately to forget Kenny's touch, the life-saving breath he shared with me, and the chaotic pounding of my heart that wasn't from panic anymore, but from something else... something forbidden. I buried that memory deep, forcing myself to focus on the wedding preparations and my happiness with Nicholas. Every time the image of those blue eyes surfaced, I immediately replaced it with my fiancé's warm smile.

The afternoon sun highlighted Nicholas's handsome face as he seriously held a cup of coffee. I was peeling fruit for dessert that night when he took a deep breath.

"Judith, sweetheart... there's something I need to talk to you about," he said, his voice cautious. "I have to go out of town for this big project."

My hands paused for a moment. "Oh... for how long?"

"Two months," he answered. Those two words hung in the air between us, feeling heavier than I expected. "It might stretch to three months. But I promise I'll try to come back sooner."

Three months. The knife in my hand felt heavier. My heart beat fast, this time not because of Kenny, but because of a bad premonition. "But, Nicholas... You promised we wouldn't postpone the wedding, right?" My voice sounded smaller than I intended.

He immediately came closer and hugged me from behind, kissing the top of my head. "Of course not, my love. That won't happen. Everything is arranged. We'll get married exactly on the date we marked on the calendar. In fact, the invitations are ready to be printed and will be sent out a week before the day, as initially planned."

He spoke with full confidence, but behind his warm embrace, a small anxiety nestled in my chest. Three months was a long time. And in that solitude, the shadow of a Kenny who too often crossed my mind.

The next morning, a thin mist still shrouded the city as the cold dew clung to the car windows. I drove Nicholas to the station, in a silence punctuated by the light conversation we deliberately created to dispel the heaviness in our chests. The smell of coffee in the paper cup I held tasted bitter, matching the sorrow stuck in my throat.

On the increasingly crowded platform, the world seemed to slow down. We stood facing each other, his warm hands gripping my cold ones tightly.

"Take good care of yourself," he whispered, his gentle eyes gazing deeply into mine, as if wanting to imprint every memory of me.

"I'll miss you every day," I replied, my voice hoarse with suppressed emotion.

Then we hugged. Tightly. As if wanting to merge back together the distance that would soon separate us. His sturdy chest felt like the fortress that had protected me, and now that fortress was leaving. He brought his face closer, and our lips met in a soft yet promise-filled goodbye kiss. It felt warm, familiar, and safe. A kiss that reminded me of all the reasons why I loved him, why I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.

When he finally released the hug and stepped into the train carriage, it felt like a piece of my soul went with him. I waved, forcing the best smile I could muster, until the train slowly moved away, gliding along the tracks and taking him out of my sight.

Even after the train disappeared at the end of the track, I still stood there, left alone with the shadows of uncertainty and the faint whispers of memories of another pair of blue eyes that had accidentally scratched the boundaries of my heart.