Michael's Point Of View ~

"Ella it smells amazing . . "  I say. 

I wrap my arms around her from behind. My chin resting on her shoulder. I look at everything in front of her, deciding then and there to pick up a knife from the knife block that sits on the kitchen bench top behind us. I want to help Ella. She has done so much for me both in and out of hospital. She has been amazing. I stand right beside her this time, chopping a carrot. She giggles as she sees me doing this. I love her laugh, her sweet giggles . . it's something that I have heard in such a long time. It makes me smile so wide. Feeling as if I want to dance because of how cheerful that sound makes me. Ella is making me my favourite for dinner tonight . . 

Stir fry.

I hear the sizzle of the hot pan as Ella adds the ingredients one by one. I finish chopping the carrot . . finally. Then adding it to the pan. Ella giggles once again. I was never a cook, I'm sure I'm looking so awkward too. Ella takes a hold of her wine glass, having a sip. I would describe it as elegant . . as the drink appears to swirl so gracefully around as she whirls the wine in the glass. She looks at at before she takes yet another sip. She feels my eyes on her, causing her to look at me. 

But it's the sudden hiss of the pan that draws her attention back towards it. She stirs it, turning down the heat also. 

"It's almost ready, Michael . . " 

Ella informs me. I begin to set the table as if that was my cue to do so. Place setting each, cutlery for both ends of the table along with Ella's red wine and just water for me. I even position a candle right in the middle of the table . . lighting it. This is a very special night. Since being home, Ella and I haven't had much of a chance to just spend time with each other as friends and family have been desperate to see me. I understand that. But tonight . . 

It's just Ella and I. 

White bowls in each hand . . she brings them over to the small, two seater dining table. Putting them gently on the placemat as our choice of beverage has already allocated. Both of us sit down with our forks at the ready. I twirl the noddle around it but it's more noodle than I expected. Oh well. It's okay. It just means a big bite. I slurp it up. Ella giggling again has she watches. The noodle whips my face. We begin to talk. We talk about many different things. It feels like we are catching up with each other even though we have remained present within one another's life. She tells me all about her work. Ella loves her job. Ever since I first met her five years ago, she has always enjoyed to cook. So once she became a chef . . she was over the moon. My ears are completely concentrated on everything Ella is telling me. She informs me of the amount of orders that have requests in regards to their individual dietary requirements and just of all the amazing food she makes each time. 

It makes her so hungry, she tells me. 

We both laugh. It's very true. 

I look up at Ella. The light from the candle giver her this beautiful glow. The way it makes her skin look. It is like it's glowing. So smooth . . hmm so very soft. I miss touching her. In that way. 

I miss making love to her. 

So bad. I haven't touched her that way in such a long time. I miss it. Just miss being so close to her again. I miss having her in that way. What happened has just completely stolen so much of my life from me . . especially the last year. I was fighting so hard . . we all were. But I'm healthy once again after receiving such an amazing gift. I'm feeling back to my old self. Almost, I should say. As I continue to look at Ella, it just makes me think that way again. To have her like that, to hold her . . to just love her. But I don't want to push it. I know Ella, I know she worries a lot. She worries about me and after it all especially . . I don't blame her. I know where she is coming from. It has now been a week since I came home but it's never something you just forget, no matter how much time passes. I know she still thinks back to it all. It is just something that is always going to be there. 

Our bellies full, our bowls empty. I lean back in my seat. 

"That was delicious. Thank you Ella . . " 

"Your welcome, babe. So happy you liked it . . " Ella says, standing up. 

She picks up both bowls, walking over towards the kitchen sink to wash them up. I stand up, walking there myself. She looks at me . . flashing me a small smile. It's only weak though. Before she breaks the short eye gaze, looking back down to focus on the washing up. I decide to give her some space. I can tell by her face. She is in front of me but I'm standing behind her, leaning my lower back and bum against the bench top opposite her. Ella's back is still to me. I can't even begin to image what she is feeling. What she must have been feeling when it was all going on. I was always concerned that there was a point of it all being too much. I put my head down, almost in shame. I don't want Ella to be upset . . detach herself from me. Not now. I want her to smile. To giggle just like she did before because she has every reason to. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere ever again. I want her to talk to me . . about what she is feeling. I don't want her to keep it inside herself where it will completely overtake her. 

"Ella . . " I say gently so I don't startle her. 

"Yes Michael? . . " 

She asks me but still, she doesn't look at me. But why? Oh wait. I believe I know why. I heard it . . I heard it in her voice. She is scared. I know that. It's something I understand. Bowls washed and on the rack to dry off. My hands in my pockets as I hope she will now look at me. 

"Ella . . " I say again. It's still in a gentle tone. 

"Please look at me, baby . . " 

She looks up, a deep breath is taken. I hear as she wets her lips. It's as if she is gathering herself together before she takes that big step to finally reveal herself to me. She turns around slowly. Her eyes red and so puffy. . her tear streaked cheeks are the next thing I see. 

"Oh Ella. Why are you crying? . . " I ask. 

My own voice now having that quiver as I look at her. I move towards her, throwing my arms around her immediately. There isn't even a second thought to it. I feel her arms then wrap around me . . but her hold is different. It's much, much tighter. Like I can feel the fear. The pain in her hold. Her face buried in my chest. Her eyes still allowing tears to fall as she sobs. Completely breaking down onto me. 

"Talk to me, Ella. Please baby . . " I say. 

I break the hug as I want to look at her but Ella's arms still remain around me, she doesn't want to let me go. My poor girl. I hate seeing her cry like this. A few seconds later, Ella lets go of me. She over watery eyes looking at me. God. How I hate this. She shrugs her shoulders . . not knowing where to start. I move strands of her hair away, planting a soft kiss upon her forehead. 

"Just seeing you like that. So unwell . . " 

"Hmm . . " Is all I say, wanting her to continue. 

She does, slowly. 

"I remember there was this one day where you were so sick . . " 

Her hands clinging to my shirt as she continues. It makes my arms wrap back around her, pulling her closer to me. 

"You were so weak. You had no energy . . " 

"You were asleep, your eyes closed. You were so weak, so sick that all you wanted to do was sleep. And I was holding your hand, hoping you knew that I was there. And I was just looking at you . . " 

"Thinking to myself . . what if Michael doesn't wake up? . . " 

Her hands slightly shaking as she says that. I once more move strands of her hair away as more tears fall, this time a lot more frequently. What she is telling me, I don't remember. But I hate that Ella had to see me that way and I can't help but to get upset with myself knowing that she did. I wipe her tears away gently with my thumbs. 

"Looking at you that day . . to looking at you right now . . " 

She looks up at me, right in my eyes. 

"It's like you're back from the dead . . " She says in a soft whisper. 

I don't say anything. Not yet. I just hug her, keeping her as close to me as possible. Her face back on my chest as I hold her. 

"I thought I was going to lose you that day, Michael. And that thought gave me so much pain . . " 

I put my finger under her chin. My face soft as I look at hers, my eyes back onto hers. I feel as though that last sentence brought her down. The sound of her voice as she said it. Ella. My poor girl. 

"I'm here Ella. I'm not going anywhere . . " I tell her softly. 

to be continued.