Page 139 of Rescuing Mia
It’s the right choice if I want to live a life without the fear of Red Phoenix breathing down my neck.
The only choice.
Grogginess envelopsme as I slowly emerge from the haze of anesthesia. The first thing I see is Rigel’s face, his gaze overflowing with love.
“Hey,” he says softly, brushing a strand of hair from my forehead. “How do you feel?”
“Groggy. A bit nauseous.” I try to smile, but the tightness of the bandages makes it difficult. “How do I look?” My voice is weak.
“Beautiful,” he replies without hesitation. “And strong. You’re incredible, Mia.”
“Ah, I bet you say that to all the girls.”
His words bring me back to the second time we met. It was the first day aboard theSerenity, where he treated me to some of the worst pickup lines known to mankind.
Skye enters the room, her expression professional yet compassionate. “The surgery was a success,” she explains. “You’ll need time to heal, but everything went as planned. How do you feel?”
“Groggy and nauseous.”
“Groggy will wear off as the anesthesia leaves your system. I’ll prescribe an antiemetic for the nausea. The last thing we want is for you to throw up and undo all that work the plastic surgeons did.”
Weeks pass.
A month becomes two, and then more.
Each day brings a bit more healing and a bit more anticipation. Finally, the day arrives to remove the bandages. I sit in front of the mirror, my heart pounding in my chest.
Skye stands beside me, her hands steady and reassuring. “Are you ready?” she asks, her voice gentle.
I nod, unable to find my voice. My palms are sweaty, and my pulse races. The room is filled with a tense silence, the weight of this moment pressing down on me.
Skye begins to carefully unwrap the bandages, her movements slow and deliberate. Each layer removed brings me closer to a new reality, a new identity. My mind races with a whirlwind of emotions—fear, hope, sadness, and curiosity.
As the final layer of bandages comes off, I close my eyes, too afraid to look.
“Take your time, Mia.” Skye’s voice is calm, steadying me. “Open your eyes when you’re ready.”
“How does it look?” I take a deep breath, feeling the air fill my lungs and steady my nerves.
Rigel stands behind me, his hands on my shoulders. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “And I love you more than ever.”
Slowly, I open my eyes and look into the mirror.
The face staring back at me is both familiar and foreign. My new features are softer, my cheekbones more pronounced, and my eyes are slightly larger and shaped differently. My nose has a subtle arch, and my lips are fuller.
My skin?
Still healing, is a shade lighter, and the scars from the surgery are faint but present.
I gasp, a mix of relief and sadness washing over me.
Tears fill my eyes as I reach up to touch my new face. My fingers trace the contours of my cheeks and jawline.
The sensation is strange and surreal. I feel disconnected from the reflection, yet it’s undeniably me.
Skye places a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Rigel’s correct. You’re beautiful. This is the beginning of a new chapter for you.”
I nod, swallowing hard as I try to process the overwhelming emotions. The loss of my old identity is like a shadow lingering in the background, but there’s also a sense of liberation, a chance to start anew.