Attraction one

Preface

I had been drinking vodka all night, that's about all I remembered from that day. It had been a long time since I'd spent a Saturday night with Natasha, and when it did, I managed to tragically end it all. After a long night of carousing and long conversations with Marcus and other friends, we concluded that my brother would never allow me to go out with Natasha, at least not in his car and me driving. But he was traveling that day, he would never have known if it weren't for the accident. We talked between laughs inside the vehicle, while I took her to my house. She was so happy that day that it somehow rubbed off on me. I put my foot on the accelerator and she laughed. For a moment, I took my eyes off the road and fixed my eyes on hers very intently. That's when I looked forward again, but it was too late. In my direction a light came so intense that it hit my face directly, I threw the vehicle to the side in time to avoid a collision, but I completely lost control, and we fell into a ravine, overturning several times until I didn't remember anything else.

Exactly six weeks ago, I woke up in this hospital, in Lausanne, Switzerland. I was told that I was in a coma for eight long months and that it was a miracle that I was alive. But every story has its downside, I was also told that Natasha died and that I could be paralyzed forever. I don't know when it started – Guilt – but it's growing, choking me, choking me like a poisonous parasite. This thing has invaded me and has been giving me nightmares every night. I wanted a thousand times to have been prosecuted by the governor of the state for having killed his daughter, which makes me feel impotent. At that time, the expertise concluded that there were no culprits for the accident, thus freeing me from being arrested for drunk driving. If they knew that punishing me would ease my pain, it would change the end of this story. Sometimes I even manage to get distracted when Paulo brings movies and games or when I'm watching videos on the internet. I want to be myself, to be normal again, but when I think about it the inevitable happens, I'm hit with the realization that I screwed up, with my haste and irresponsibility. A horrible feeling in my chest, sinister and paralyzing, haunts me constantly. I always thought I could do anything because I was beautiful, full of health and money. He could handpick the girls he would stay with for several nights. Drinks, ballads, my whole life was like this, and I was happy, until life turned me inside out and showed me that the wrong side is my right side.

The feeling of waking up far from home, surrounded by strange people, and no longer feeling your legs move makes you value your life more. Now, as I'm lying here in this hospital bed, I'm anxiously waiting for the doctors to announce that I can go home now. I close my eyes, put on my headphones, trying to forget everything while the Justin Bieber tells me:

Is it too late now to say sorry?

Because I'm missing more

Then just your body I'm Sorry

— How do you feel today? – I just feel that hand touch me, I open my eyes and see Paulo standing beside my bed.

— Hi – I take the headphones off while pausing the music – What did you say?

— I asked you.

— I'm fine – I sigh – unless there's another way to be better.

Paulo looks nervous, a little uneasy. He moves away from where he is and sits down in one of the armchairs in the room.

— Didn't you tell me you'd only come when I was discharged? - I ask, while he takes a magazine from the table and leaves through it – What are you doing here, did something happen that I should know about?

— No – he drops the magazine aside – nothing serious.

I give a crooked smile and wait for him to open his mouth and start telling me.

— Someone is coming to Switzerland to see you – he looks at the clock, analyzing the time He must have already arrived this way.

— A person? – I'm in doubt if he speaks the truth – And who would that be? Since no one has ever come to visit me other than you.

— Zoe Morgan.

Instantly a smile spreads across my lips and I forget about the guilt and pain. I lose the air. How fitting to see that, even after so long, that name makes me feel strange about my past with her. True, before the accident, that afternoon when she disappeared from my life, I knew we would see each other again. Even now, after so long, I still ask about her, but Paulo's answer is always the same: Zoe graduated, is now a teacher and will soon marry Eros. I always wondered if she had forgotten me, if Eros Parish would manage to take my place in her heart, the fact that she never came to visit me would answer that.

— But you said…– The memories hit me like a wave.

— I know what I said, – he interrupts me, getting up and walking towards the door – I just want to ask you to send her away as soon as possible, understand?

— I cannot do it. – I want to get out of that bed and go meet her before Paulo finds her in the corridors and makes her give up seeing me – Is it so hard to believe that I've changed?

— Can I really be Arthur? – He continues standing at the door watching the movement, waiting for some sign of Zoe – Anyway, Zoe came here without her mother's consent. Get her back to Brazil as soon as possible.

I want to object, but he walks out the door in a hurriedly nervous way, leaving me doubtful and extremely suspicious. There were loose ends in the story that made me sure Paulo was lying to me. If Zoe was doing so well without me, if she didn't care at all – as he told me – the state I was in, why was she here? Why after so long does she decide to show up? I don't have time to find the answers, I turn around and see that girl standing in my bedroom doorway. His eyes shine fixed on me. For a moment, my anger at being trapped in that bed is quelled by nostalgia, and I realize how much I've missed her. She stands right in the middle of the door for long seconds, smiles, and then comes toward me in such a hurry it makes my heart race.

A hug.

A sigh.

How good it is to have you in my arms once more.