The Best Friend’s Contract

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Chapter 39


Two weeks after . . .


″Coming!″ I shout as I make my way towards the front door, unlocking it after glancing up at the screen to see a delivery man standing with a piece of paper and a small box in his hands. My eyebrows furrow at the sight of it but I look up to see him smiling at me, gesturing for me to take the box away from his hold and sign the paper.

″I didn’t order anything,″ I frown.

He gazes down at the paper, ″Are you Kenna Anne Ashton?″

″Yes . . . but—″

He cuts me off, ″You didn’t order anything but your husband did. This one’s for you,″ He gives me the small box which causes me to examine it. ″Please sign here and you can open the box as soon as I leave. Oh! This one’s also for you,″ The edge of his lips curve up into a smile as he hands me an envelope with a small heart drawn in the middle with nothing else written.

With my free hand, I grab onto the pen before signing the paper.

″Merry Christmas,″ He smiles as he walks away, heading towards his van before driving down the road while I remain frozen at my spot—continuing to eye the small box.

As the cold breeze blows onto my face, I immediately close the door as I slowly unwrap the box and open it, revealing an unfamiliar car key; leaving me to blink a few times. Just like that, I begin to open the envelope to find a letter inside which causes me to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear before reading the letter written by Aidan, himself:


I suck at writing letters and you know that better than anyone but I went a little bit overboard and searched the internet on ‘How to Impress Your Wife’. Apparently, some ‘experts’ told me that they managed to impress their wives by writing letters because they find it romantic. Do you find it romantic? Haha, let me know.

So, I’m sure you’re reading this with a smile on your beautiful face and you’re wondering ‘how the hell did I end up with someone so perfect?’ because let’s face it . . . I’m pretty perfect. LOL. Anyways, before we get sidetrack by talking more about me, I want you to know that I am in love with you and always will love you for the rest of my life. I’ve never been in love and being in love with you has made me the happiest man on earth.

You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. You are my one and only. And of course, another year, another Christmas spent with you and this year, it’s going to be slightly different but I’m always going to be there with you through every Christmas that we spend (that’s never going to change) for as long as we both live.

So, Merry Christmas to my one and only love! I’m probably exaggerating with the exclamation mark but don’t mind me, yeah? Open your present, sweetheart and take that baby for a ride.

All yours forever and ever,

Tears have been streaming down my cheeks when I started reading the letter but for some unknown reason, a smile managed to also creep up on my face before immediately pulling the front door open—eyes wandering around to find something new or unfamiliar and just like that, my eyes ended up on a brand new Porsche.

My trembling hands move up before pressing onto the button on the car key, causing the car to beep a couple of times.


Both of my eyes are focusing onto him as his chest moves up and down with the help of the machine before I start to grab onto his hand, disappointed at the fact that his hand isn’t as warm as they always have been but slightly colder. ″Hey . . . it’s me,″ I mutter.

″I’m doing great . . . not, thanks for asking. What about you? Are things so much better there than here? I hope not because I want you to know what the hell you’re missing by being away for two weeks, now.″ I end up chuckling as I play with the tip of his fingers, ″So, you bought me a car? You even gave me a letter,″

Just like that, my eyes begin to water as the tears fall down onto my cheeks.

″You hate writing letters, Aidan. You hate being romantic like we’re in the ninetieth-century but you did just that and you were right.″ I wipe the tears away, trying to control my breathing. ″I was smiling like a fool reading that letter and I wondered ′how the hell did I end up with someone so perfect′ because I’m admitting that you’re pretty perfect. You’re too perfect,″

″You were also right that this Christmas is different because you’re not actually here. You’re here but at the same time, you’re not . . . how can I live with that? How can I not be with you when we’ve always been together for the past twenty years? It has been two weeks and I swear to god, I feel like I’m going to lose my mind. I’m fucking miserable,″ I continue to speak.

I grip harder onto his hand, somehow expecting him to grip back and open his beautiful brown eyes but they remain closed without even showing any movements. ″I want you to open your eyes and turn to look at me like you always do. I want you to place your head on my shoulder when we’re watching movies and end up falling asleep in each other’s arms instead of seeing you like this, eyes closed . . . frozen.″ I mutter.

″I got you something,″ I reach down onto my handbag for the brand new wrist watch that I bought for him a few weeks ago. ″It’s not just a regular wrist watch because it has a meaning behind it. When you wake up . . . you’ll wear this and you will always think of me and all the time that we have the world to be together. You glance down at your watch and you’ll remember me, literally.″ I smile at the sight of my name being crafted on the leather band.

Just like that, I lean forward to kiss him on the forehead, long.



″It’s New Year’s Eve!″ I exclaim with a wide grin plastered on my face before running my fingers softly through his hair, realising how they’ve gotten longer and how he has a sexy light beard going on. ″Look at you . . . look at that, you’re becoming more and more beautiful every day.″ My lips curve up into a smile as I run my index finger down the bridge of his nose and on his lower lip.

″Sorry I was a little bit late. I had a double shift,″ I continue to speak as I walk around the room with his scarf wrapped around my neck, enjoying the smell of his cologne. ″You know what? Things aren’t getting any better at work . . . people keep asking me about you and it sucks having to answer the same thing everyday. Imagine being in my shoes,″ I scoff.

My eyes wander around the room to see a large amount of flowers being placed near the glass windows, a lot from his colleagues at work and also his clients while others are from his family and also me. I make my way towards a bright yellow sunflower before placing the tip of my finger on it, ″You’re favourite.″ I turn to look at him.

″By the way . . . there’s this new song for you,″ I reach out for my phone in my pocket before sitting beside him, scrolling down on my phone as I press play and raise the volume. ″Nothing too fancy but I like it. It’s a little bit slow and I know you won’t like it as much but just listen, okay? It’s for you,″ I smile.

The Only High by The Veronicas continues to play, loud and clear.

Back when we were young and drunk . . .
Love could never last forever . . .
Then we sobered up . . .
Swear my heartbeats all you better . . .
You . . . you’re the only high I need . . .

It doesn’t take me long to just sit close to him as we both listen to the same music, knowing that he’s probably enjoying it as much as I’m enjoying it, too as the clock ticks twelve. I immediately press onto the home button on my phone before opening up a different application where it’d show the fireworks live in The Big Apple.

″Happy New Year, Aidan.″ I whisper near his ear as I continue to watch the fireworks ′with′ him, letting my lips curve up into a smile.



My eyes remain still at the sight of him, watching as the nurses take the breathing machine away from him which causes my heart to feel a slight relief.

″It’s a miracle. He’s getting better and better,′ Owen, one of my fellow neurologist says beside me with a smile on his face as he reads down the paper in his hand. ″He’s stable and he has healed tremendously ever since the incident which is another miracle, indeed. His body is also responding positively to the antibiotics and the vitamins which is good,″ He trails off.

″When is he going to wake up?″ I turn.

Ever since he was confirmed to be in a coma, I’ve never spent a day without visiting him at the hospital or even spend the night here because it makes me sane being near him. Even though I know that it’s unpredictable to know when he’ll be waking up but being close to him, being able to feel his skin with mine, it’s somehow relaxing and soothing.

A month have passed and he’s progressing but showing rather minimal or no signs of waking up, at all which worries me.

Whenever I want to go and visit him, I’d always bring his favourite sunflower and step inside this exact room with a smile plastered on my face because it feels like I’m meeting him for the first time in my life; somehow going on a perfect date to meet the man of my dreams as I keep on talking about my life and how it has been going on.

″We can’t know, Kenna. I’m sorry,″ He replies, causing me to look back at Aidan.

We would be doing different things everyday but I mostly spend the days talking even though I know that if he was awake, he’d shut me up by kissing me and honestly, that was what I’ve been expecting whenever I talk . . . I want him to wake up and tell me to shut the fuck up by kissing me on the lips because I want that. I want him to respond.

″Okay,″ I mutter.


That night, with Dimitri sitting in the opposite direction from me as we both continue to talk to Aidan, it feels surreal but real at the same time. It feels like the three of us are having a proper conversation for the first time in a while as we just talk about how our lives are moving on but it’s getting worse and worse without his presence yet we hide the details.

″I’m sorry but I did it again!″ Dimitri exclaims into laughters.

″You little—you promised! You broke your promise,″ I reply.

″She was literally flirting with me. What did you want me to do? I’m a man and she was a very fine woman, for god’s sake.″ He continues to chuckle as he leans back on his seat, ″She was a bit awkward, though. Don’t get me wrong, she was hot and all but she was pretty weird in bed and I think that’s a turn off.″ He grins.

″What happened to meeting the perfect woman? What about that dark short-haired girl with hazel eyes and a funny personality?″ I raise an eyebrow, crossing my arms.

He smirks, ″That perfect woman has not yet arrived but when she does, I’m going to be head over heels over her. Throw women at me and I won’t even bother to glance because I’d be having the best time of my life with that exact dark short-haired girl with hazel eyes. Believe me,″ He run his fingers through his hair before gazing down at Aidan.

″You must be really jealous right now,″ He continues to speak. ″So, wake the fuck up, Aidan. People are waiting for that special moment when you open your eyes. I don’t know what you’re going through but I’m pretty sure being in a coma sucks. You don’t get to be with Kenna in that other world. So, head back here to where you belong,″ He adds.


He cuts me off, ″—convincing. He needs to know what he’s missing,″



″Once upon a time, there were two young kids who met at a kindergarten. She was shy and he was somewhat a bit mean because he pushed her off the swing which caused her knee to scrape but it was also when their friendship started. Then . . . years passed, they went through middle school and high school together, faced a hell lot of dramas but their friendship were only growing stronger. She even made him a pink bracelet but he lied and told her that he lost it because he was embarrassed with the colour,″ I continue to talk as his head is facing me, letting me eye him up close.

″How can he hate pink? I mean, how can anyone ever hate pink? Then again, it was cute because he told her that he has been keeping the bracelet all long instead of actually losing it. Weeks and weeks passed after their marriage and they eventually fell in love with each other even when they tried to resist but they failed miserably,″ I smile, ″They were terrible at faking their emotions. They weren’t able to push away the temptation,″

″She fell in love.″ I mutter under my breath.

″So did he . . . ″ My voice almost inaudible as I sigh deeply, ″That was a pretty good story, huh? Do you think I should publish it somewhere? Online? There’s this website called Wattpad and I heard that it’s quite good. You never know, people might be interested in our love life.″

″You better tell me what you’ve been doing in your coma when you wake up because it seems to me that you’re quite enjoying it,″ I lean back with a soft chuckle slowly escaping my lips as both of my eyes remain still on his face, seeing that he has become a little bit paler than before, making me realise that he has been indoor for almost two months.

″Mia came yesterday, if you heard. She went to an ultrasound with Tony to find out about the baby and they’re both healthy. She misses you, Aidan . . . we all do. It’s not the same without you being around us—even if you are annoying sometimes.″ I stop talking for awhile, ″I guess they were right all along . . . you never appreciate what you have until you lose it,″

I lean forward, ″Right now, baby. I need you,″



″Do you want to hear a joke?″ I ask.

As I cup onto my face, ″When was the last time we talked to each other?″

I let the moment of silent pass for a few seconds before bursting out into soft chuckles, letting my cheeks hurt due to smiling. ″Last year, duh. Get it? I mean . . . technically it has been two months since we’ve talked to each other but it was last year, if you get what I mean.″ I reply as I place his laptop on my lap.

My eyes wander around the screen before landing on a familiar folder, making me furrow my brows for a couple of seconds as I click onto the folder—realising how it was not here before but I didn’t exactly pay much attention or use ′his′ laptop much. My lips curve up into a smile at the name of the folder and the contents inside.

Our Wedding′ with a heart emoji at the side.

″You made a folder?″ I ask, my eyes watering at the sight of our pictures and videos in the folder; causing me to blink a few times before taking a deep breath.

Just like that, I begin to click onto the first picture, revealing a picture of us laughing as we danced during our wedding reception which causes me to smile at the picture or more likely, the memory. Then, I keep on clicking onto our pictures, seeing how they are an awful lot of cute pictures of us together, kissing and even fooling around.

It looked real. Like . . . we got married because of love.

My heart skips a beat at the pictures before realising how he was always looking at me in most of the pictures without me even realising. Both of his eyes were focusing onto me when I was talking or laughing and whenever we were talking, it seemed like he was fully content. As if he was truly happy. As if it was not being forced or faked.

My fingers drag onto one of the videos before clicking the video of us dancing slowly to Till the End by Jessie Ware, causing me to chuckle at how close we were.

″You didn’t tell me you kept it all in a folder in your laptop,″ I mutter under my breath as I lean back on my seat again, not quite believing. Then, I click back to find another unfamiliar folder which was slightly hidden but I drag it to the middle, seeing the folder being named as ′Love’, causing me to click it.

My eyes widen at the sight of our pictures together for the past years, letting me chuckle at how stupid we looked but we were together for so long that these pictures of us are somewhat surreal. From when we were kids to when we were teenagers, everything is kept in this exact folder, letting me feel my heart beating rather fast than usual.

Speechless. Out of words.

I grab onto his hand as I smile down at his laptop.



″Hi, Kenna.″ Lucas says, which causes me to turn towards him before seeing him nearing me. Both of his green eyes are looking directly at me, leaving me to smile back at him. ″You’re working again, today?″ He asks.

″Yes. Someone has got to pay the bills,″ I joke.

We both continue to laugh, ″What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be taking care of pregnant women and also women in labour?″ I ask, raising an eyebrow as I place one of my patient’s folder on the desk for the nurses to go through.

″I just want to see how you’re doing with the current situation. I want to know if you’re okay,″ He replies and it doesn’t take me long to know what he’s talking about. Maybe, it’s because people at the hospital are always talking about it or it just seems to be on the news all the time about Aidan’s situation but I’m actually getting tired of it.

″You look at me and you tell me how I’m doing,″

He breathes out, sighing deeply before looking away. ″I’m sorry, Kenna. I don’t know how to talk to you lately—you’ve been in the ICU with him almost everyday and you don’t smile when you walk down the hallway. You don’t even each lunch anymore, you just . . . you just—I don’t even know if you’re eating well,″ He continues to speak.

″How do you expect me to be, Lucas? My husband’s in a coma, for god’s sake. Do you expect me to walk down the hall with a smile plastered on my face every single time and eat lunch happily when I’m worried sick about someone I love. Don’t you get that? And for fuck’s sake, I’m tired of hearing them talking and talking about the same crap everyday. I get it that you’re worried and I appreciate your concern but that’s it . . . I don’t need to be asked if I’m okay, every single day.″ I reply with a shrug before walking down the hall, sighing.

″Kenna! Kenna!″ I groan at the sound of someone calling out my name.

I turn around to find Flynn as he fixes his glasses, ″It’s Aidan.″

Just like that, I immediately run down the hallway with Flynn trailing closely behind me as my heart continues to beat fast—worried and mostly scared of what’s happening. I know I should be asking Flynn on whether this is a serious issue worth worrying or something but my legs won’t stop me, they keep on running straight towards the intensive care unit, straight towards Aidan.

Within seconds, I’m already standing in his room and it isn’t just me.

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