God, please don’t let this be serious. Please.
I carry her to the couch and lay her down carefully, brushing her hair from her face.
“Ava, baby, come on. You’re okay. Just wake up for me, please.” My voice cracks. “I’m right here. You’re safe. Just open your eyes.”
Nothing.
“Mia!” I call, my tone sharp again. I’m trying not to lose it, but I’m barely holding on. “I need cold water. A clean cloth. Now.”
“Y-Yeah,” she stammers, scrambling toward the kitchenette.
I turn back to Ava, take her hand in mine, and press it to my lips.
“You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay,” I whisper, more to convince myself than her. “Just come back to me.”
Mia returns a minute later, hands shaking as she holds out the bowl of water and the cloth. I nod, taking them from her without a word. I don’t trust my voice right now.
I dip the cloth into the cold water and wring it out, then gently press it to Ava’s forehead. She doesn’t stir.
Come on, baby. Please.
“Mia, check her pulse. Her wrist.” My voice is hoarse. She kneels beside me, fumbling as she presses two fingers to Ava’s skin.
“It’s… it’s there,” she says after a second. “It’s weak, but it’s there.”
I exhale—barely. Relief flickers through me, but it’s fleeting.
“Ava.” I brush the cloth across her temple again, then down to her cheeks. “You’re scaring the hell out of me. You don’t get to check out on me like this, not now.”
Her lips are parted slightly, but she’s still out cold. I lean in, my forehead touching hers.
“I was going to tell you,” I whisper. “Everything. I swear. I was just waiting for the right moment.”
A dry, bitter laugh escapes me. “Guess the universe decided for me.”
I lift her hand again and squeeze it gently.
“You think I’m strong,” I say softly, “but you’re the one who walked into my chaos and still looked at me like I was worth something. You changed everything, Ava.”
Her fingers twitch. Just barely—but I feel it.
My heart lurches.
“Hey. Hey, that’s it,” I say quickly. “Come back to me. I’m here. You’re safe.”
Another small movement—her eyelashes flutter, just once.
“Ava?” I cup her face, ignoring the tightness in my chest. “Look at me, baby. Please.”
Her brows crease slightly, like she’s in a dream she can’t get out of. And then—finally—her eyes flicker open, unfocused at first.
She blinks, her gaze darting around before settling on me.
“Eli…?” Her voice is barely a breath.
“Yeah, I’m here.” Relief floods me so fast I almost collapse beside her. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”
She tries to sit up, but I gently hold her in place. “Easy. Just breathe.”
