Four years earlier

I heard the annoying beeps before I saw the depressingly white walls when I regained consciousness. Thankfully, I had not been to the hospital very often in my life, but I knew what it looked like, and I was positive that's where I was. The blinding pain that shot through my whole body when I tried to sit up confirmed that I was not just in a grim hotel room.

"Abril! Thank God honey, you're awake!" My mother said in Spanish before wrapping her arms around me.

I winced in pain and she immediately released me. She took my hand instead.

"You're in the hospital, sweetheart," she explained, still in Spanish, like always when we were talking together. "You've been in a car accident. You broke two ribs, you cracked a vertebra, and you had a severe concussion. But you're getting better, you'll be all right."

That explained the pain.

"You've been in a coma for almost a month. I was so scared I'd lose you, I am so happy you woke up, sweetheart. I love you so much."

My mom started to cry and I raised my arm to stroke her hair. The movement was painful but I sucked it up for her sake. After the hell my parents must have gone through for a month, that was the least I could do. A month. Wow. That was a long time to remain unconscious. What had I missed? How had I ended up there?

My dad, who had been silently sitting in a chair by the foot of my bed, came by my side and hugged my mother.

"Welcome back, Abril," he said in our mother tongue. "You scared your mother and me to death, we're so happy to have you back."

And suddenly the whole scene of the accident came back to me. I could relive it as if I were in that car again. I started hyperventilating when I visualized the black car hitting us from the right. My parents got scared and reached for the button to call a nurse. I asked them not to. I had other priorities, at this moment.

"How's Josh?" Those were the first words I pronounced after waking up. In English. The language of my soulmate. "How's the baby?" I didn't even care that my parents were not aware of my pregnancy. Surely somebody in that damn hospital would have told them anyway.

I put my hands on my belly to protect my child and did the quick math in my head. If I had been in a coma for a month, then I should have been around six months pregnant. If my bump was noticeable but subtle before the accident, there was no way my stomach could still be so flat at this stage. Something was wrong.

I looked at my mother's eyes and all I could see was sadness and pity. I started to understand that not only something was wrong, but nothing was right. My head started to spin. I felt the pull of unconsciousness trying to claim me back but I fought it.

"No," I croaked, my voice severely hindered by a month spent sleeping. "No!" I croaked louder. "Mom, please, tell me it's not true!"

I forced my body to sit up. All my bones were screaming in protest. I didn't care. My heart shattering was my bigger concern.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

"No!" I kept yelling as loud as my fucked-up voice allowed me. "Where is he? I need to see him!"

I pulled the bedsheet off me and swung my legs to the side of my bed. I needed to find my fiancé.

My father took my mother's place next to me and pinned me back on the mattress.

"You cannot get up, Abril. You're still very weak, you need to rest," he ordered.

"I don't care! Where is he? Where is my baby?"

I heard my mom sob when she heard me ask after my man and my child. She had my father step away from me and took my face in her hands.

"I'm sorry Abril, you lost the baby in the accident."

Here they were, the words I did not want to hear. I started to feel sick to my stomach. My brain was demanding to fall back into a coma, it was getting harder to fight it. But I had to hold on, the worst was still to come.

"What about Josh?" I asked because I had to. Because I didn't want to believe what I had begun to understand. No. My mom would prove me wrong, Josh could not possibly have left me. We belonged together.

"Sweetie . . . Unfortunately, Josh didn't make it."

That was the sound of my world collapsing.

If I had been standing, my knees would have buckled and I would have fallen to the ground. Instead, I just sunk a bit more into the hospital mattress. My chest hurt, and that had nothing to do with my multiple fractures. The pain was in my heart, not in my bones. I wasn't even married yet and I was already a widow. I was not a mother but I had already lost a child.

"You—you're telling me I've killed both my baby and my boyfriend?" I asked hysterically.

"What? Of course not, baby! It was an accident. A drunk driver ran a red light and hit your car. It was not your fault."

"What happened to the driver?"

"He died, too."

I wouldn't even be able to blame someone, to get revenge. He would not pay for the misery he'd brought upon me. He'd had the privilege to leave this world without being tormented by his actions.

"I need to see Josh, let me go see him!" I demanded.

I wanted to sit up again but my father sensed my agitation and made sure I stayed put.

"Let me go, Dad!" I screamed like a crazy person, ignoring my burning throat. "He's the love of my life, I have to say goodbye!"

My father did not budge. I locked eyes with my mom. Her pain was not even a tenth of mine, yet she looked like she was carrying all the misery in the world. I didn't dare imagine what my own eyes looked like.

"Please, Mom," I begged her, hoping she would understand my pain. "Please, let me go see him! I'll behave after that, I swear. I'll lie in this bed all day, I'll even use the bedpan if I have to. But please, please, just allow me to say goodbye!"

"Oh baby . . ." she cried. "It's not that we don't want to but . . . Josh died a month ago, honey. His parents tried to wait a few days for you to wake up but, ultimately, they had to go back to the UK. He's buried there."

That was it, then.

No goodbye, no last hug, no last kiss. Nothing.

As I started sobbing uncontrollably, I stopped fighting and let the nothingness take me.

* * *

First cigarette.

First party.

First kiss.

First sip of alcohol.

First joint.

First relationship.

First love.

First sex.

First hair dying.

First piercing.

First tattoo.

First pregnancy.

First engagement.

First bereavement.

First heartbreak.

Josh had been the man of all my firsts. And now he was no more. I never got to know what he would have called our hypothetical daughter.

Te amo, corazón. Por siempre.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A/N: Not gonna lie, I cried when I wrote that scene. I made no secret of how Josh is my favorite character, and killing him off was hard, although necessary. Fun fact: Josh was only supposed to be a name, not have a whole timeline dedicated to him. But one random day of March 2021, while I was watching an episode of Ink Master, I suddenly got inspired. I wrote a ~30k-word-long chapter about this tattooed and pierced boy with a soft heart, I just knew I had to incorporate his story into my main plotline somehow. And that's how the dual timeline was created.

I know dual timelines are not for everybody, I still hope you managed to like that one. Only one more chapter and this timeline will be over for good.

As always, next chapter on Wednesday, please vote and comment.

Love,
Charlie.