No, she’s being evaluated.
No, unless you’re immediate family.
But he didn’t leave.
He paced the sterile lobby like a caged animal, pain simmering just beneath his skin. Eventually, Heather Presley emerged with swollen eyes and trembling hands. She didn’t say much— just looked him in the face and nodded.
“I’m going to tell them you’re family,” she whispered. “Because you are.”
The doors buzzed open. A nurse escorted him down a dim hallway painted in washed-out shades of green and beige. Everything felt wrong. Cold. Too quiet.
Then they reached her room.
And nothing in all his life— not football injuries, not fights with Daisy, not even watching Ali run out of that party— could’ve prepared him for the sight of her sitting cross-legged on a hospital bed in a pair of socks and a gown, pale and hollow-eyed, her hair in a messy bun, hands folded tightly in her lap like she was trying to hold herself together with sheer will.
He almost hit his knees.
She looked up when the door opened, and the breath left her body in one visible, shuddering exhale.
“Dylan…”
His name came out barely a whisper, like it hurt to say.
He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He didn’t move any closer, not yet. Didn’t know if she wanted him to. But she didn’t look away.
“Ali,” he rasped.
A single tear slipped down her cheek. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
“I had to.” His voice cracked. “You left, and I didn’t know if you were— if I’d lost you. I was going out of my fucking mind.”
Her lower lip trembled. “I thought you were ashamed of me.”
“No.” He crossed the room then. Dropped to his knees beside her bed like a prayer. “I was frozen. I was furious! I was trying not to lose it in front of the entire goddamn student body. Butnot at you. Never at you. I was ashamed of Daisy. I was ashamed I didn’t stop it. But you?” He reached for her hand. “You’re the only thing in my life I’ve ever been proud to love.”
A sound cracked from her chest like a broken sob. She curled her fingers around his and let herself cry.
“I wanted to die,” she whispered. “I didn’t want to hurt anymore. Not from Daisy. Not from school. Not from the way people look at me like I don’t belong. I— I can’t keep trying to outrun it.”
His eyes burned. “You don’t have to outrun it. I’ll carry it with you. I’ll fight for you. I’ll walk through fire for you, Ali, if you’d just—”
She shook her head. “It’s too much, Dylan.”
“No—”
“Yes.” Her voice was firmer now, even though her eyes stayed wet. “I love you. God, I love you so much. But it’s killing me. I almost died, Dylan. You can’t ask me to go back to that place. To be her punching bag. To pretend that being with you doesn’t make everything harder.”
He closed his eyes. “You don’t have to go back there. You don’t have to deal with her. We can figure something else out. Please—”
Ali stood, gently tugging her hand away from his. She moved to the little table and held up a folded letter. When she turned, her shoulders were straight. Her eyes glassy.
“I’m going to Savannah,” she said softly. “They’ve got a long-term program there. And I’ve already applied to transfer to Bellamy Community College in Honeyshore for the spring. I’m going to get my Associates Degree in Accounting. Something stable. Something quiet. My dad can help me since he’s a senior partner at Whitestone, ya know.”
“You’re not quiet,” he whispered. “You’re the loudest thing my heart has ever heard.”
She crumpled into his arms then, both of them weeping. He kissed her temple, her shoulder, her wrist— right over the scar that had started all of this. She touched his face like she was memorizing it.
“I’m blocking your number,” she said. “Not because I don’t love you. But because I do. Because I have to get better. I have to find out if I can be okay without anyone saving me. And you deserve someone stronger than me, Dylan. Someone who won’t ever bring you down.”
