My children came to visit.
My daughter walked in first. The moment she saw me awake, she started crying. Not loudly… just small tears she tried to hide.
“Mom… you came back,” she said.
I smiled, even though it hurt.
“I told you… I would try.”
She laughed and cried at the same time, holding my hand like she never wanted to let go again.
Then my son came closer.
He looked at me carefully, like he was checking if I was really okay.
“Can we go home now?” he asked softly.
I wanted to say yes.
I wanted to tell him everything would be normal again.
But I couldn’t.
Not yet.
Because the truth was still waiting.
Two days later, the doctor asked to speak with me… and my husband.
The room felt colder than before.
I could feel my heart beating faster again, just like before the surgery.
