Garrison Reeves knew what sh e was afraid of. Winifred Dawson who had just woken up was like a fledgling bird, unable to survive on her own, with wings but no idea how to fly.
She needed someone to teach her how to take care of herself slowly, to help her become independent and grow up. Once she became self-reliant, she would feel secure.
After lying in the hospital for so long, even with daily body wipes and clothes changes, there was still an odor that she couldn’t smell herself.
Garrison could smell it, but he didn’t mind. He held Winifred Dawson every day, sometimes carrying her in his arms around the ward.
At first, when he picked her up, she was scared and clung to his neck tightly. Over time, she got used to it and even found it fun, occasionally pointing at the window for Garrison to take her there.
Garrison noticed that Winifred liked being near the window but protested vehemently when he tried to take her outside.
She was like a frog living at the bottom of a well. Faced with Winifred who formed the walls of her heart, Garrison could do nothing about it.
He could only take it one step at a time, teaching her like teaching a child how to walk and talk.
He had endless patience for Winifred.
The most inconvenient part was helping Winifred with her hygiene. Garrison had hired a female caregiver to help with bathing her.
But Winifred was too wary; she struggled whenever anyone other than Garrison approached her.
Fortunately, Winifred’s self-care abilities were quite strong; within two or three days, she learned to manage on her own.
Garrison noticed that Winifred rarely spoke. He thought she had become introverted and withdrawn. He tried to communicate with her slowly, hoping to change her current lifestyle and make her more like a normal person.
Eventually, he discovered that one major reason for her silence was a problem with her throat.
Her hoarse voice wasn’t due to not speaking for a long time; it was damaged.
How did it get damaged?
The doctor conducted a thorough examination and took X-rays. Her throat had been burned and did not heal properly, making her voice rough and hoarse. Speaking caused pain because the wounds in her throat hadn’t healed well, leading to frequent tonsillitis.
The pain was like having a mouth ulcer; even swallowing saliva hurt.
Garrison anxiously asked, “Will she restore her good voice?”
The doctor shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
Winifred was an excellent person by nature. Her excellence came from being very demanding of herself and being particularly tough on herself.
From childhood to adulthood, she learned many skills regardless of personal preference, wanting to be the most outstanding one. Just relying on looks wasn’t enough; she had to excel in everything compared to those around her.
She could paint, play the piano and violin, sing beautifully with a good voice, perform various difficult dance moves-she excelled in both ballet and classical dance.
Whether painting or playing instruments or dancing on stage as gracefully as a swan, Winifred always attracted attention.
But now, she couldn’t paint because of an injury five years ago that left her unable to hold a brush. She couldn’t dance because of damaged feet that made standing on tiptoe impossible.
Her once beautiful voice was ruined by burns; it became hoarse and unclear. Even speaking was difficult, let alone singing.
What did Winifred have left? From head to toe, even her face was ruined. She lost all pride and confidence; fallen from grace, she became nothing.
During these ten days in the hospital with Winifred, Garrison always showed his strongest side to Winifred without revealing any weakness.
Because Winifred had become very fragile, he needed to be strong to protect her-like an eggshell protecting the egg inside or a peanut shell protecting the peanut inside. He wanted to wrap Winifred tightly and protect her from any harm.
Even though he felt heartbroken and uncontrollably sad due to Winifred’s condition, he endured it while comforting both Winifred and himself.
Everything bad would pass; the only thing he wanted for Winifred was she could stay alive.
But when he heard from the doctor that Winifred’s voice would never recover, Garrison’ eyes reddened; he started crying in front of Winifred. His steady breathing turned into trembling sobs.
Was there anything left to Winifred?
She once had everything; now she had nothing left. Fate was cruel enough to take everything away from her bit by bit.
If Winifred remembered her past someday, would she think it would have been better never to have had anything?
As an “observer,” Garrison couldn’t accept the drastic changes in Winifred’s life. If one day the blood clot in Winifred’s brain dissolved and she regained her memory, could she accept it calmly?
How did Winifred endure those long five years?
Seeing Garrison cry, Winifred didn’t know why he was crying but stood helplessly in front of him with an anxious expression on her pale face.
“Garrison,” she croaked painfully through a hoarse voice while frowning in pain.
Seeing him cry made her feel terrible too.
Not wanting Winifred to see his vulnerable side, Garrison lifted his head high above hers so she couldn’t see his face anymore.
Enduring the throat pain, Winifred called out, “Garrison? Why are you crying? Please don’t cry… It hurts me when you cry…”
Hearing this, Garrison immediately lowered his head again looking at anxious pale-faced Winifred and asking worriedly, “Where does it hurt?”
Winifred pressed against where her heart was located, saying softly, “Here… It hurts here.”
Right after hearing this, Garrison hugged tightly onto the fragile-looking girl, bringing warmth. Winifred stayed quiet when being hugged.
In moments like these, hugs solved many emotional problems, filled one’s mind with psychic power, and satisfied the empty heart. Being hugged felt like being loved by the whole world and having everything one ever needed…
Winifred also hugged back tightly though not as strong but the embrace make them feel each other’s breaths, warmth and heartbeats that were more audible…
They hugged silently in the corner of the hospital room, unaware how long passing until finally tired legs forced them apart…
Seeing Garrison’s red-rimmed eyes, Winifred lifted her hand and wiped away his tears gently.
When touching the small mole near his left eyebrow, she paused momentarily. A fleeting image flashed quickly through her mind. It revealed another person who also had a mole in the same position.
“Why are you so good to me?” asked Winifred softly.
“Because you’re my fiancee…”