He hit send and started walking—fast. She was curled into the corner of the waiting room, hoodie pulled over her knees, hair twisted up in a messy clip. As soon as she saw him, she stood—eyes wide, worried, but steady.
He didn’t say a word. Just crossed the room and pulled her into his chest, holding her tight enough to stop the shaking in his hands.
“I’m here,” she whispered into his shoulder. “Whatever you need.”
“I need you with me,” he murmured.
And that was it.
He laced their fingers together and led her back through the ER doors. No one stopped them this time.
Carolina looked up as they entered, her expression softening the second she saw Ali.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she said, stepping forward and wrapping her into a hug. “Thank you for coming.”
Ali hugged her back gently. “Of course.”
Talmadge was still resting, hooked up to monitors, pale but stable. Dylan watched Ali’s face shift, her worry folding deeper. Then his gaze flicked to the chair in the corner—Daisy, half-curled, phone in hand talking to Laila.
She glanced up at the sound of the door. Her eyes landed on Ali, then flicked to their joined hands.
Daisy gave a slight wave. No words. Just the kind of quiet gesture that said:I see you. I’m still figuring it out.
Dylan didn’t push. There’d be time for more later.
For now, he squeezed Ali’s hand and led her to the space beside him—right where she belonged.
The machines hummed softly beside the hospital bed, a rhythmic reminder that time was still ticking—and that his dad was still here. Dylan exhaled slowly, sinking deeper into the stiffhospital chair, hands laced behind his neck as he stared at the worn tile floor.
Talmadge had drifted in and out for most of the afternoon, but now his eyes were open. Not sharp, exactly, but focused. Present.
Dylan leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “I gotta tell you something.”
His dad gave the faintest lift of his brow—permission.
“We were arguing,” Dylan said. “When Daisy kept calling. I was… frustrated. Confused. I almost didn’t answer.” His voice cracked slightly. “I was just standing there like a jackass. She wanted to move to Orlando for me and I threw it in her face because she didn’t ask me to help her.”
Talmadge’s lips pressed into a thin line. He didn’t speak yet, but he was listening. Dylan could feel it.
“I love her, I do.” Dylan said. “Ali. And I meant it when I said I want to build a life with her. But she didn’t tell me she was job hunting. Or that she’d called Kallie. Or that she was thinking about moving there. I found out after the fact, like it was already decided. And it caught me so off guard, I didn’t react the way I should’ve. I got defensive.”
His chest ached with the memory—her teary explanation, the shock in her eyes when Daisy’s call finally forced his hand.
Talmadge shifted, slow and careful. “You mad that she made a plan without you, or scared she made one with you in mind?”
Dylan blinked, startled.
His dad gave a tired little shrug. “Sometimes love makes people run forward before they’re ready. Sometimes fear makes people freeze. You two always did both.”
Dylan dropped his gaze, teeth working at the inside of his cheek. “I think she’s scared to believe it’s real. That we’re real.”
“Then prove it,” Talmadge said simply. “You’re good at showing up, son. Just don’t wait until she’s gone again.”
Dylan swallowed hard. “I won’t.”
A beat passed. Then another.
“She’s good for you,” his dad added softly. “Even I can see that. And I’ve been half-dead for three days.”
