2a.m. in the ward of StThomas was unnaturally stillonly the soft beeping of the cardiac monitor and the faint hum of the fluorescent lights kept me company. For three long years I tended to him: Liam Hayes, the billionaire CEO who had slipped into a coma after a devastating road crash. No relatives visited, no colleagues lingered. Just me.
I never understood why I felt such a pull toward him. Perhaps it was the serenity of his still face, or the thought that beneath that stillness lay a mind that once sparked boardrooms with fire. I told myself it was merely professional compassion, a detached attachment, but deep down I knew better.
That night, after finishing his routine check, I lingered at his bedside, watching the man who had inexplicably become part of my life. His hair had grown longer; the scar on his cheek was more pronounced against his pallid skin. I whispered, Youve missed a great deal, Liam. The world has moved on, but I could not finish the sentence.
The room seemed unbearably heavy with silence. A single tear escaped down my cheek. On an impulsea reckless, foolish impulseI leaned in and pressed my lips to his. It was not meant to be romantic, merely human, a silent farewell I never got to say.
And then it happened.
A low, muffled sound emerged from his throat. I froze. The monitors rhythm altered; the beeping quickened. Before I could process it, a strong arm wrapped around my waist.
I gasped.
Liam Hayesthe man who had not moved in three yearswas awake, holding me close. His voice was rough, barely a whisper: Who are you?
My heart stopped.
That was how everyone imagined the man would finally awakenright into the arms of the stranger who had just kissed him.
The doctors called it a miracle. Liams brain activity had been dormant for years, yet within hours he was breathing, speaking, recalling fragments of his past. For me, the miracle arrived with a heavy dose of guilt. That kiss was never meant for anyone to notice.
When Liams family finally arrivedlawyers, assistants, people more interested in the empire than the manthey tried to push me into the background. I could not erase the memory of his eyes tracking me during his recovery sessions, the softness in his voice when he said my name.
Days turned into weeks. Liam struggled to walk again, to piece together his memories. He recalled the crashthe argument with his business partner, the rain, the impact. Everything after that was a blur until he woke and saw me.
During physiotherapy one afternoon he asked quietly, You were there when I woke up, werent you?
I hesitated. Yes.
His gaze held mine. And you kissed me.
My hands trembled. You you remember that?
I remember warmth, he said. And a voice. Yours.
I wanted to vanish. It was a mistake, MrHayes. Im sorry.
He shook his head. Dont apologise. I think it brought me back.
He smiled faintlynot the polished, magazineready CEO, but something real, something vulnerable.
As he recovered, rumours began to swirlwhispers that I had fallen for him, that Id crossed a line. The hospital director summoned me. Youll be reassigned, he said coldly. This story stays in here.
My heart broke. Before I could say a proper goodbye, his room was emptyhed been discharged early, slipping back into his world.
I told myself it was over. Yet deep down I knew our story was far from finished.
Three months later, I was working at a small clinic in Brighton when I saw him again. Liam Hayes sat in the waiting area, dressed in a grey suit, the same unreadable expression on his face.
I needed a checkup, he said casually. And perhaps someone to see.
My pulse quickened. MrHayes
Its Liam, he corrected. Ive been looking for you.
I tried to stay professional, but my voice wavered. Why?
Because after everything, I realised something, he said softly. When I woke, the first thing I felt wasnt confusion or pain. It was peace. Ive been trying to find that ever since.
I looked down. Youre grateful. Thats all.
No, he replied firmly. Im alive because of you. Im living because I want to see you again.
The clinic buzzed around us, but everything else fell away. He stepped closer, eyes locked on mine. You gave me a reason to return. Maybe that kiss wasnt an accident after all.
Tears pricked my eyes. It wasnt, I whispered. It just wasnt meant to mean anything.
He smiled that quiet, knowing smile I remembered. Then lets make it mean something now.
He left, not with urgency but with gratitude, carrying the kind of tenderness that only follows loss. When our lips met again, it wasnt a theftit was a beginning.
When we pulled apart, I laughed softly. You shouldnt be here. The press
Let them talk, he said. Ive spent enough of my life worrying about headlines. This time, I choose what matters.
For the first time in years, I believed him. The man who once ruled empires now stood in my modest clinic, choosing love over legacy.
And just like that, the impossiblebroken rules, healed heartsbeat on, one pulse at a time.
