Surrendered To Desire

1

Asa narrating:

Two years later...

I woke up with a shiver. It felt as if a dormant volcano had stirred inside me. The darkness that enveloped me dissipated slowly, like the morning fog daring to give way to the sun. But unlike a peaceful awakening, my mind was a labyrinth of confusion and loneliness. Where am I? What happened to me?

I tried to open my eyes, but they felt heavy, as if someone had placed a cloak of sand over my eyelids. Finally, after a titanic effort, I managed to force a c***k open. The light was blinding, a cold white glow that hurt my vision. I closed my eyes again, feeling weakness wash over my body. It was strange, as if I were trapped between two worlds, the real and the unknown.

When I finally managed to open my eyes completely, the scene before me was almost surreal. The walls were white, immaculate, and the ceiling seemed high as if it were floating in the air. Everything smelled of disinfectant, a scent I could barely identify. I tried to move, but my body wouldn’t obey. A wave of panic began to engulf me.

— Calm down, Asa... — I whispered to myself, but the voice that came from my lips felt so distant that I wondered if I had really spoken. The sound echoed like a dream, a memory of something that was no longer real. What did “Asa” mean? What was I? What had I been?

I tried to search my mind for fragments of memory, but all I could find was a deep void. Images began to come and dissipate like smoke. I saw faces, smiles, even tears, but they were so ethereal that I couldn’t recognize anyone. A knot formed in my throat; the feeling of not belonging anywhere was overwhelming.

My heart began to race, making my chest thump like a war drum. I looked around, searching for any hint of who I was or what might have happened. That’s when I noticed something: there were machines around me, a web of wires and blinking lights. The constant sound of a monitor filled the room, tracking time like a silent countdown of my state of life. This was a hospital. I was in a hospital.

Memories began to return, but not like a gentle, familiar wave, but like lightning tearing through the darkness. Swings, laughter, a blinding light... and then, an accident. A moment. An off-road incident. The pain. I could feel it, almost as if I were still trapped in that experience. My heart sank in the loneliness of knowing I had lost so much.

My gaze fixed on a corner of the room, where there was a small picture with flowers reminiscent of spring. They were so vibrant against the sterile whiteness around me. I wished I could reach the flowers, touch them, feel their soft texture between my fingers. But all I could do was get lost in a whirlwind of feelings: fear, loneliness, and a primordial hope pulling me back to life.

The door creaked open, and I saw the silhouette of someone approaching.

A female figure entered my line of sight. Her hair, a cascade of brown strands, seemed to shimmer under the soft light, and her face wore an expression of disbelief. The woman came toward me, but I couldn’t remember who she was. A mix of confusion and relief coursed through my body.

— Who... who are you? — I murmured, my voice coming out low and drawn, as if the very pronunciation of the words required colossal effort.

She stopped, frozen. A moment that seemed to stretch for an eternity. And then, as I studied her, a spark of recognition ignited within me. The memory came slow and hesitant, but finally consolidated. It was her. My mother.

— Mom? — The word slipped out almost like a whisper, both a question and an affirmation.

Her eyes filled with tears, and, in a sudden movement, she came closer and embraced me. The warmth and fragility of her body against mine made time seem to fade away. In that embrace, there was a potent mix of love, relief, and pain. I could feel the tremor of her breath, the fragility that made it clear that something much larger than a simple separation had kept us apart.

— Oh, my Asa! — she exclaimed, her voice choked. — You’re awake! I thought you would never...

The affection of her presence dissolved part of the confusion enveloping me, pushing some questions to the surface.

— What happened? Why am I here? What happened to me?

Her expression shifted, and tears began to slide down her cheek.

— You... you were in a coma, — she informed me, each word carrying an enormous weight. — After the car accident. Two years, my dear...

Two years. Time had passed like a shattered vase, each fragment a day lost in an abyss that separated me from the world. I cursed the absence of memories, the gaps that made everything even more painful.

— I don’t know... I don’t remember anything. — Anguish immediately took over, and my voice came out louder than I intended. — I just remember... nothing. As if everything had been erased.

She held my hand, hers warm and comforting, like an anchor in the midst of the storm that was forming in my heart.

— It’s all right, dear. We’re together now. And that’s what matters.

The comforting presence of my mother was like a safe harbor in the storm. But as the confusion dissipated, other questions arose like relentless waves in my mind.

— Where is my boyfriend, Max? — I asked, my voice a bit firmer now, but still laden with apprehension.

The mention of his name brought a whirlwind of emotions, memories of smiles and gentle touches. A love that now felt as distant as a star on a cloudy night.

My mother’s reaction was immediate. She paused, a shadow of uncertainty crossing her face, as if a blade of ice had sliced through the air between us. Her gaze drifted, falling directly to the window, as if the answers were out there.

— Mom? — The word came out drawn, a bitter plea. — Where is he? Did something happen?

It was then that the door opened silently, and Alma entered. The environment, which until then had breathed healing and rebirth, began to vibrate with a palpable tension. My sister was different — a new light surrounded her, but there was something undeniably different. She carried a prominent belly, a symbol of a life growing within.

— Alma? — I said, my voice faltering. I couldn’t process the image before me. Despite the happy nature of the pregnancy, a deep sadness settled in my heart. — You’re pregnant?

She nodded slowly, a timid smile trying to form on her lips. But the joy that should have accompanied the revelation was shrouded in a veil of discomfort. I followed her gesture as she looked at our mother, who seemed trapped in a sea of unspoken words.

— How... how did this happen? Why do you both seem so afraid? — I asked, the memory of my coma weighing heavier than ever on me. Time had unfolded into an interval I couldn’t reach. For me, it had only been a few days — like a night that lasted an eternity.

— The accident... all of this... — Alma began, but the words didn’t seem to form. The air in the room had become heavy, a fog of feelings we could almost touch. My mother looked at Alma, and in the silence of the room, time seemed to stop. Nothing but the beating of the machines, which now sounded like a painful echo, filled the space.

Finally, my mother took a deep breath and turned to me, as if she were preparing to offer a gift and a burden at the same time.

— Asa, we... — My mother began to speak with difficulty.

— Just tell me, did something happen? Why are you hesitating to say it? — I asked, an overwhelming weight settling in my chest.

Alma stepped closer, hesitantly, and placed her hand on mine.

Alma's hand was warm, a touch that should have been comforting, but instead, it brought a wave of anguish that made me want to pull back. We put everything into perspective, but the heavy atmosphere remained in the air, in the unspoken words that still needed to be said. Alma seemed hesitant, as if she carried a weight she didn’t know how to share.

— Why so much suspense, Alma? — I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, but the tremor betrayed the calm I was trying to maintain. — It feels like there's something you're not telling me.

Silence stretched again, and for a brief moment, the faces around me were frozen in a haze of confusion. Alma’s expression alternated between pain and empathy, as if she were about to reveal something that could shatter what remained of my sanity.

— Because... because the truth is hard, Asa, — she said, finally breaking the silence, but her words seemed more like a defense than an explanation. — Sometimes, the truth is... brutal.

— Brutal? — I repeated, my heart racing. Somewhere inside me, something began to form, a faint realization that made me want to pull away, as if the world was about to collapse.

— Yes. I... don’t know how to say this, but... my child, — she began, her voice choked. — is Max’s.

Her words resonated like thunder in a silent storm — cutting and devastating. The heavy meaning of her statement hit me hard, and reality shattered what remained of my expectations. A wave of despair filled my chest, and the room seemed to spin around me.

— No... it can’t be, — I murmured, tears welling in my eyes. — You can’t be serious. Max... my Max?

— I’m sorry, Asa. I... You were in a coma, and life went on. He... he got involved with you, but when you... when you were out... — Alma broke off, the heavy words almost impossible to pronounce.

The shock soured the air. The weight of the moment grew, a collapse I wasn’t prepared to face. The love I had, the love I thought still existed, was now unraveling before the cruelty of reality. Max had chosen to continue living while I was trapped in a deep dream.

— Why? — I asked, the thread of my voice caught in my throat.

— I didn’t want to hurt you! It happened, and it was all so difficult... we were lost and ended up spending so much time together. One thing led to another, and all of this happened. Forgive me... — Alma pleaded, despair in her expression reflecting the pain that was consuming me. — No one knew if you were going to wake up, Asa! And when you woke up...

— When I woke up? — I interrupted her, anger and pain battling for control of my voice. — Now I’m to blame? — Tears began to stream freely down my face.

I was lost in a sea of betrayal. Now my world was collapsing. My heart was broken and shattering like leaves falling from a tree in autumn — dry, brittle, and somehow, dead.

The connection between us was fading quickly, and the weight of the revelations grew, becoming unbearable. My mother observed in silence, her gaze filled with understanding and empathy, but what did that matter now? The love I had, the future I envisioned, everything was crumbling.

— I don’t know if I can handle this, — I confessed, my voice almost inaudible. The shock and betrayal flooded my body, a labyrinth of feelings that left me lost. — You betrayed me in such a cruel way... I can’t believe it!

Alma was in tears, her hand still firmly on mine like a harbor in the storm.

— Please, Asa... try to understand. No one wanted this to happen. I didn’t want this. I just wanted you to be okay.

— Okay? You don’t understand, Alma! What it’s like to wake up from a coma, confused and completely lost. And worse, to find out that while you were fighting for your life, your sister was sleeping with your boyfriend.

At that moment, the world I existed in, filled with love and hope, crumbled. The present became a blurred vision, and the future I had imagined evaporated in a breath. The revelations were consuming everything, leaving me empty.

It was a new reality, a new life, but what life? What was left for me but pain and loss, while the echo of the laughter I shared with Max became a distant echo, like a dream that would never return?

And as the weight of the truths hung over us in a tense silence, I realized that the true collapse had begun, and with it, a new journey I never chose.