Evan truly cherished every second of his happiness with Michelle.
Though he had panicked when Michelle suffered severe morning sickness during her first trimester, thankfully, the doctor prescribed some medication that helped, and the baby remained healthy.
Now, Michelle's belly was starting to show. Every time Evan looked at it, a wave of pride and emotion surged within him—feelings too deep to put into words.
That evening, while they were lounging on the sofa together, Evan gently caressed Michelle's stomach without thinking.
"It's starting to show," he murmured with a small smile.
Michelle let out a soft laugh. "Yup. Get ready, future daddy. Pretty soon, someone's going to call you 'Dad'."
Evan fell silent. Those words felt so real. Dad. He was going to be a father.
"I can't wait," he finally said, kissing Michelle's forehead. "I want to watch them grow. Teach them so many things."
Michelle smiled warmly. "Me too."
But deep inside, a question gnawed at Evan—
Would he really have that chance?
Or, just like in the years before, would it all disappear once the new year came?
December 20, 2018
Evan drove home after a long day at work. The night air was cold, but his heart felt warm thinking of Michelle, who was surely waiting for him at home.
Suddenly, from the opposite lane, a large truck sped toward him. Its headlights blazed, blinding his eyes.
"Shit!"
He instinctively slammed the brakes and swerved the wheel, but it all happened too fast.
BRRAAAKKKK!!
A loud crash echoed. The world spun. Glass shattered. His body was flung sideways by a brutal force.
Then… darkness.
A rhythmic beep... beep... beep echoed in his ears. Slowly, consciousness began to return.
His eyelids felt heavy as he tried to open them. His vision was blurry, the white lights blinding. He blinked several times, trying to adjust to the unfamiliar surroundings.
A white ceiling. The distinct smell of antiseptic. Medical equipment nearby. Machines humming softly next to him.
He was in a hospital.
That realization came just as a wave of pain spread through his body. Every inch ached, like an invisible weight was crushing him. Even breathing felt heavy.
Slowly, Evan turned his head. The heart monitor blinked with each beep, a green line rising and falling steadily. An IV tube was inserted into his arm, and some parts of his body were bandaged.
Then, like a lightning flash, the memory returned.
The truck's blinding headlights. The deafening crash. The spinning world. The rising panic—
Then, darkness.
He tried moving his fingers. They responded. His legs? Stiff, but still moving.
Alive.
He was still alive.
But... how long had he been here?
What happened after the crash?
And most importantly—
Where was Michelle?
Moments later, the door creaked open. A nurse entered, holding a tablet and glancing at the patient monitor.
Her face lit up with surprise at the movement on the screen.
"You're awake!" she said, her voice gentle but clearly relieved.
Evan tried to speak, to ask questions. But only air escaped his mouth. His throat was parched—his voice gone.
The nurse noticed immediately. "Hold on, I'll get you some water."
She poured water into a glass and placed a straw near his lips. With effort, Evan took a small sip. The cool water soothed his throat, but it wasn't enough to bring his voice back.
"Don't push yourself too hard," the nurse advised, understanding his silence.
Evan gave a faint nod. He had so many questions, but his body was still too weak to even form words.
Where is Michelle?
What happened after the crash?
How long had he been unconscious?
The nurse offered a soft smile. "I'll go get the doctor."
Evan stared up at the ceiling, his mind in chaos.
Soon, the door opened again. This time, a doctor entered—followed by a woman who immediately rushed toward him, worry etched all over her face.
Mom.
Evan wanted to speak, but his throat was still dry. All he could do was look into her eyes—eyes filled with confusion, exhaustion, and the slightest glimmer of relief upon seeing someone familiar.
The doctor began checking his condition. Blood pressure. Heart rate. Light pressure on certain areas to check for pain.
"How are you feeling, Evan?" the doctor asked as he jotted notes on a clipboard.
Evan managed to speak, though his voice was raspy and weak. "It hurts... but not too bad."
The doctor nodded. "That's to be expected. Your body took a pretty hard hit, but there are no serious injuries. We'll still run a few more tests to make sure everything's okay. If the results look good, you'll just need some recovery time before going home."
Evan gave a faint nod. Meanwhile, his mother gripped his hand tightly, eyes glistening with tears.
"You scared me so much," she whispered. "But thank God you're awake."
Evan wanted to ask so many things—
How long had he been unconscious?
What exactly happened?
But most of all—
Where is Michelle?
Before he could form the words, the doctor spoke again.
"I'll have the nurse prep the tests. In the meantime, try to rest."
The doctor excused himself, leaving Evan alone with his mother.
Only the soft beeping of the monitor filled the room. She continued holding his hand, as if afraid he'd vanish again.
Evan swallowed, his throat still dry. With a barely audible voice, he finally asked,
"Mom… where's Michelle?"
He tried to ask again, but his voice was too faint. His mother had already stepped out, following the doctor. Her voice echoed faintly from the hallway, talking to his father on the phone.
"Pa, Evan's awake! Thank God, he's awake! Yes, the doctor said there's no serious injury… he just needs to recover…"
Her voice was filled with emotion—trembling, and clearly holding back tears of joy.
Evan stared at the ceiling, his mind still hazy. His body ached, but that wasn't what was occupying his thoughts now.
Michelle.
Where was Michelle? Why didn't Mom mention her at all earlier?
He tried lifting his arm to press the nurse call button. Even that small movement made his arm feel incredibly heavy, but he managed. Soon, a nurse arrived.
"Mr. Evan, can I help you with something?" she asked gently.
Evan swallowed hard, trying to steady his voice.
"Michelle… my wife… where is she?"
Evan blinked, trying to process the nurse's words.
"You've been unconscious for two weeks…"
Two weeks?
His heart pounded. If that was true, then…
It's 2019 already?!
Panic rushed through his body. His breathing quickened despite the heaviness in his lungs. He tried to sit up, but his body was still too weak.
"Mr. Evan, please don't try to move too much," the nurse said, concern in her voice.
"What's the date today?" Evan croaked, barely above a whisper.
The nurse glanced at her watch. "Today is January 4th, 2019, sir."
His blood ran cold.
New Year's had passed.
He clenched the white blanket covering him, his mind racing to one thing: Michelle.
What had happened to her? Was she still alive? Or…
The worst-case scenario flooded his mind. Michelle, their baby—had they disappeared too?
He turned to the nurse, eyes full of desperation. "Michelle… my wife… where is she?"
The nurse hesitated. "I'm not sure, sir. Over the past two weeks, only your mother has been here. I haven't seen your wife at all…"
Evan's chest sank. No. That couldn't be. Michelle must be here. She had to be.
The room door suddenly opened. His mom walked in, her face still wet from crying after calling his dad.
Evan looked at her hopefully. "Ma…" His voice was weak, but his eyes brimmed with anxiety. "Where's Michelle?"
"Michelle who?" his mom asked.
Evan's chest tightened. He stared at her face, praying this was some cruel joke.
"What?" His voice was barely audible.
His mom frowned, genuinely confused. "Michelle who, Van?"
Evan's heart thudded violently. No. This can't be.
"My wife, Ma," he whispered. "Michelle… she's pregnant with my child."