Nurses and doctors came rushing inside the room, pushing everyone back except Cassandra whose hands were still holding Dennis'. His vitals were rechecked, including his brain activity which the doctors studied and it was with smiles on their faces that they informed them that Dennis was awake.

Cassandra couldn't believe it. She wanted to be alone with Dennis. She wanted to be able to talk to him. But as her mind was running along the things she wanted to say to him, his eyes closed once again.

"He closed his eyes. What's wrong?" she asked in panic.

"He's fine. If he is responding to the procedure like the past patients, he will wake up again," one doctor told her, studying Dennis' monitors.

She nodded, relieved.

"We'll have to do some tests when he regains consciousness," another doctor said aloud.

"Yes, yes, do what you have to do."

"But we cannot promise a full recovery," he added. "He may be awake, but we cannot fully assess the damage his injuries caused until we do further tests."

She nodded once again.

Then, one by one, the room emptied as doctors gave orders to the nurses. Finally she, Harrison and Philip were once again alone inside with Dennis.

Long minutes passed by and no one dared say a word.

Cassandra was still trying to convince herself that she was not dreaming and Dennis was awake. Harrison, she didn't have any idea what he was thinking. And Philip—well, she'd pay to read his mind at the moment because he was once again sitting in his chair with a serious blank look.

The doors burst open and Sheena and Beth rushed in with their faces flushed.

"What are you doing here?" Sheena exclaimed, almost running across the room toward her.

"Don't you dare touch her," Philip's cold voice spoke for the first time. Sheena stopped with her hands closed in fists.

"Philip!" Beth said, startled to find him behind them by the door.

"Get out," Sheena addressed Cassandra her with rage.

"Let's go, Cassandra," Philip said gently. "You'll see him when he wakes up again. I promise."

Already drained with overwhelming emotions, Cassandra reluctantly released Dennis' hand and stepped back. Slowly, she walked through the sheath of angry aura emanating from both Sheena and Beth who stepped back to gladly let her pass like Vatican soldiers that they were, standing at each side of her.

Philip waited for her by the door, supported by his crutches.

"I'll call you," Harrison said from where he was standing at the foot of the bed.

It was Philip who nodded, guiding her out the door.

"I can't believe it," she uttered more to herself than to her husband as they walked down the corridor.

Philip did not answer, obviously still in shock as well.

Slowly, Cassandra stole a glance at his direction as he walked alongside her, working with his crutches. What is he thinking? God, I hope it's not something stupid, she prayed silently.

*****

As they drove back home, neither of them spoke a word.

Yes, she was happy and glad that Dennis was awake and that he might be back to normal again, but that was just it. She didn't feel a rush of romantic emotions when she finally believed that he was awake. She didn't picture him waking up and planning a wedding with her. Pictures of her being with Dennis did not flash her mind when he opened his eyes earlier.

All she felt was utter relief and freedom.

Though she knew she still needed to ask for Dennis' forgiveness, she felt she was finally free from all the guilt. And relief was another thing that came about—relieved that finally, she had her final answers. Now, knowing Dennis could go back to normal and walk and talk, she was certain of one thing: the desire to be by his side was gone.

All she wanted was answers. Why did he want to back out of the wedding? Did it just pop in his head or had he been thinking about it longer than that?

Throwing a quick glance at her husband, she realized that she wanted something else as well—but that would be another problem and she got to take them one step at a time. Right now, Dennis would have to go first.

She had to settle her past before she could gamble for her future.

*****

By the time they got back home, Philip was still quiet and Cassandra felt awkward.

God, what must he be thinking?

She wanted to stop him and ask to spill out whatever was on his mind, but she couldn't just do that now, could she?

It was no question where she would sleep. For almost a week now, she had been sleeping in her room, and it would be wrong to be with him when she knew she wouldn't even get to close her eyes for the night. But a part of her wanted to lie on that bed beside him, to assure him that she was here to stay, that nothing would have to change.

But does he want it the way you do? The joy-spoiler part of her brain asked and it was right. Though she wanted to show Philip that she would stay if he wanted, she didn't know if that was the way he really wanted it.

For all she knew, he was already dying to hand her back to Dennis.

*****

She didn't hear from Harrison the next day and she was already getting anxious. What if it was just false alarm or something?

The other thing she could think after analyzing everything was Dennis didn't want to see her. It made more sense and it made her sad, even depressed, but she couldn't blame him if that were the case. She only wanted to be assured that he was physically okay.

She spent the three days constantly checking her phone that even Philip asked her how she felt. She knew he was busy and she didn't want to trouble him or make him think that she was depressed about not being able to see Dennis.

Philip was also acting weird, giving her odd glances and Cassandra feared that he might do something she wouldn't like. But if he was thinking about anything near that thought, she didn't know. He was always on the phone with his secretary talking about business.

"Are you doing anything tonight?" he startled her by that question while they were having breakfast.

"None that I can think of," she answered, taking a piece of toast from his plate.

"Wanna go camping?" he asked.

She pretended to think. "Only if you won't let me carry one whole chicken," she finally said.

He smiled, but it did not really reach his eyes. It hurt her to see him like that. Was he trying to console her over Dennis? Did he pity her for not getting an invite back to the hospital?

"I won't if you won't wear shorts," he bargained.

"Deal," she smiled and whirled around to go to her room.

*****

This time, the trip to their camping site into the woods was pretty much the same pace as the last time because Philip was in crutches. She had tried discouraging him from going and to postpone their camping until he was more able, but he insisted that he could do it, so they went. They set up camp, or she set up camp, much to her frustration, rather late.

By the time she was finished with the tent, he had already started a fire.

Then, like always, they sat side by side on the cloth-covered ground.

"You know, I always find myself in this kind of a weird happiness whenever I'm with you," Philip uttered without warning. And before she could get over her shock, he added, "but it's usually only when your mouth is closed," he finished with a grin.

Her mouth fell open and remembering what he said, she closed it in an instant.

He laughed—his Philip genuine, make-you-forget-everything-when-you-hear-it kind of laugh.

She pushed at him playfully and lay back on the ground. She smiled sadly, remembering the last time they went camping. That time, she had less trouble to think about. Philip followed after her on the ground, but it was to loom over her, his face shadowed by the fire behind him, just inches away from hers.

"Or when it touches mine," he added in a whisper before claiming her mouth for a gentle, tender kiss.

She was halfway through linking his words to his last statement when all thoughts came flying out of her mind and deeper into the woods.

Her hands came to roam through his hair, his neck, his shoulders—well, practically everywhere—missing every inch of him. She adored his mouth with hers, trying her might to show him how much she wanted and needed him. She bit back the words she wanted to tell him when his lips left hers to trail down her neck. All Cassandra could do was close her eyes, a single tear tracing down her cheek. It dried where it stopped as they enjoyed the magic.

This, this was theirs—or so she hoped.

She wanted it to be.

No, she needed it to be.

*****

By the time she woke up, she almost feared it. She didn't like her morning the last time she went camping with Philip and she was almost certain he would be cold or distant once again. If that were so, she would curse the woods with all its bad spirits. She wouldn't blame anyone else if she opened her eyes and her husband wouldn't as much look at her.

But open them she did, and thank God she was wrong, because he was looking down at her lovingly with those lazy morning eyes she grew familiar with. Slowly, she smiled up to him, closing her eyes once more as he pressed his lips against hers. She could be in the middle of the desert and she still wouldn't care. She was in his arms and that was all that mattered.

They spent the next few hours trekking further into the woods, Philip with his crutches which she never—not for a moment—heard him complain about, she with her hand on his shoulder as he guided her all the way.

Philip was obviously very oriented with everything in the woods, including the names of trees and the type of stones which was weird for Cassandra and she couldn't help but compare him to Dennis. Her ex-comatose, ex-husband-to-be was like Philip when it came to work: dedicated, persistent and even arrogant.

But that was just it.

Dennis limited himself to what was commonly acceptable by society—going to parties, conversing with his colleagues, taking her to dates, etcetera. He never took her to places that were outside his comfort zone, which was a little bit against her nature. He never took risks.

Philip took risks by choosing her to be his transient wife in the first place. He took risks learning and knowing the woods outside his home. He took risks everyday he lived with his crazy wife. And she only hoped he'd take the risk to continue on with their marriage and see where it would lead them.

When she finally complained about her grumbling stomach, they headed back to camp and roasted chicken and talked about the perfect weather, nothing about some guy who woke up from a two-year coma.

"It's getting hot, we should get going," he announced much to her disappointment. Honestly, she could live in the woods forever and he would be Tarzan and she would be Jane without the yellow balloon dress and the hat. But wishful thinking would only remain as such. They had reality to face.

*****

A week passed and still no word from Harrison or anyone.

Cassandra had started to give up and even started to feel a certain kind of anger. Did she not deserve even a little bit of information as to how Dennis was doing? Shouldn't Harrison be concerned that she might be feeling crazy waiting for a call?

She tried to keep herself busy helping Philip with his therapy and starting on another painting, but there were moments when she found herself either staring into blank air or restlessly pacing around the house.

She was in the kitchen cleaning the table when her phone finally rang and she almost flew across the room to the counter. Philip tried to act like he didn't hear the ringing phone as he closed the dishwasher.

When Cassandra couldn't move to pick it up, just staring at the unregistered number, Philip said in a flat tone, his head bent on his work, "Aren't you going to answer that?"

Cassandra swallowed. Her hands were starting to shake as she grabbed the vibrating device, looked at the screen, and answered in a quaking voice, "Hello?"

"Cassy, it's me." Cassy. It was weird to hear that name coming from someone else other than Philip.

Of course.

He didn't have to say his name. She knew his voice too well. But she didn't say it either to confirm she heard him. She didn't say a word, not even a breath escaped her mouth. Her eyes searched Philip's face, but he was too busy, eyes intent on admiring the dishwasher.

"Cassy, it's me, Dennis."

"Dennis," she said in a whisper, like she was talking secretly inside the closet, afraid her mom would hear her using the phone. She cleared her throat and tried louder, "You're...awake." Yep, that was really stupid.

"Yes," his voice seemed happy but croaky. "I want to see you. Please."

Philip had turned around to wipe the already clean counter and this time she couldn't get a glimpse of the look on his face. Not that she would want to see it right now because it could either make or break her.

"When?"

"Now. Please, Cassy, I really need to see you."

"I'll be there," she answered.

"I'm still in the hospital."

"Okay, I'll be there." She clicked off, feeling quite surreal. She just heard Dennis' voice over the phone. He was awake. He was talking. And he wanted to see her.

"The keys are by the door," Philip said without looking back at her, his voice flat as ever.

"You're not going with me?"

"I got some work to do. Just be careful," he said. No 'Come back home safely,' or 'Call me if you need me.'

"What about you? You might need some help with the stairs—"

"Just go," he snapped and repeated gently, "Just go. It's fine."

Daggers straight through the heart. Shoot, that hurt! Cassandra nodded, gulped, and walked out the kitchen, grabbed the car keys, and within a minute walked out the house.

*****

A week of waiting for a call gave Cassandra enough time to imagine different possible scenarios that could happen when she met Dennis. One even included him not remembering her, but that was out now. Calling her would make any idiot conclude he didn't have some sort of amnesia.

So Cassandra calmly drove to the hospital. Okay, maybe not too calm, because she was furious as well. The hurt was fast to disappear, but the anger came just as swiftly. Philip acted like she was just out to buy groceries! What the heck! She was going wring his neck later for good. Then she'd force him to listen to what she had to say.

She was not that insensitive or stupid not to know or feel that her husband could possibly return her feelings. But nothing was certain unless one of them had to bring down the hammer and speak up.

He may like it, he may not. But I'm settling this one my way.

*****

Walking down the corridors of the hospital, Cassandra was cautious. She didn't want to meet Sheena and Beth because that would only ruin her composure. She wanted to be alone with Dennis to talk, to say what was needed to be said, and to demand for answers.

She didn't know what he wanted to tell her and any moment now, she'd find out.

Cassandra took a deep breath when she stopped outside his door, released her balled fists, and shook her hands. She needed to do this. She had been waiting for this very moment and now and here it was.

In one swift motion, she opened the door and was almost blinded by the light. As her eyes adjusted, she stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. The silence told her Sheena and Dennis' twin sister was not around.

"Cassy," Dennis' familiar voice said by the window.

Cassandra's eyes were still adjusting to the bright light coming through the window so she walked closer, her eyes watering with tears. There sitting on a wheelchair was the man she once loved and still cared for. "Dennis," her lips quivered as she said his name, finally being able to utter it while looking at his pale, handsome, conscious face.

He beamed, his perfect teeth showing. He looked down at his legs and said, "I still can't walk though. Still undergoing therapy." He looked over his shoulder through the window and smiled, "I've missed a lot of sun lately," he said, explaining why he was sitting where he was.

She nodded, standing there about two meters away from him.

He held out his hand and she gladly walked the remaining space between them, took his hand, and dropped to the ground in front of him crying. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

She bent her head to hide her overflowing tears. Dennis had never seen her cry before. Not ever.

"What are you sorry for?" When she didn't answer, he continued, "Harry told me you've been beating yourself, blaming yourself for what happened to me." He held out his other hand and rested it under her chin to force her to look into his eyes, those brown eyes she had longed to see for years. That warm look in them was still the same—comforting and loving.

"You wasted two years in this hospital because of me," she finally said, meeting his gaze.

"I don't remember any of it," he said, making light of his previous state.

She scoffed a weak laugh through her tears. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have lost control. I was the one driving and I should be the one who—"

"Don't say anything like that," he stopped her words. "It was my fault. I told you the news at a very wrong time," he said, his words full of bitterness toward himself. "I was so stupid. I shouldn't have said it. I didn't even know why I wanted to back off."

Cassandra froze. "What do you mean?"

Dennis chuckled, shaking his head. "I got cold feet I guess," he shrugged.

"You..." Cassandra blinked. "What?" she asked in disbelief.

"I was suddenly afraid and I don't know why. The thought just popped in my head and I started to panic. I don't think I was even serious."

Cold feet? That was the reason?

The shock she wanted and expected upon hearing his reason must have been stuck somewhere because right now she was just plain dumbfounded. She expected a name, another woman—a name! But a cold feet was no name! It was just freaking unbelievable! Cold feet? What the hell!

Her response startled him though, because she laughed. She laughed really hard until she was out of breath. Disbelief, relief, and sudden enlightenment showered upon her.

"Cassy?" he asked with concern.

"Cold feet?" she managed between laughs. "You? Cold feet?"

His lips quirked into a grin."Yeah, I guess so."

"There was no one else? No pregnant woman? No love-at-first sight-with-another-woman?"

He shook his head. "There is only you, Cassy."

His words stopped her. Did he say is. It was in present form. He didn't say was. He said, 'There IS only you, Cassy.'

Okay, this was going to be difficult after all. "So, you don't hate me for causing the accident?"

"No, Cassy, I don't," he said almost instantly. "I could never."

"So what did you call me here for?"

He stopped to look at her for a long time before answering, his face serious. "Harrison told me you have something to tell me. He didn't say what it was, but he said it's big. Beth knew about it but didn't say a word. She and Sheena refused to say anything about you."