CIARA
The fluorescent lightsof the hospital room make everything feel even more surreal as I sit on the edge of the bed while the doctor shines a light into my eyes. He asks me a dozen questions I barely hear. My attention is too focused on Mila, who lies in the bed next to mine, pale and silent, staring off into the distance as the monitors behind her beep in an almost soothing rhythm.
She's still in shock, and I don’t blame her. Her whole world fell apart tonight, and it’s never going to be the same.
“She’s physically fine,” the doctor says quietly to Ronan, who stands beside my bed, his face an expressionless mask. “Both of them are. But we’ll run some blood work, just to be safe.”
My stomach churns at the thought of more tests.
Right now, I want nothing more than to go home and crawl into bed and try to sleep off this nightmare. But the adrenaline is still pumping through my veins, and it’ll likely be a while yet until it wears off.
I wrap my arms tightly around myself, as if I can keep myself from cracking open if I just hold on tight enough. I’ve been holding it together all night, pretending I’m fine so Mila can have the space to fall apart. But the truth is, I feel like I want to throw up or cry, or both.
Ronan moves to sit in the chair beside my bed, his arms crossed and his jaw tight. He hasn’t said a word since we got here other than to speak to the doctor, but his silence speaks for itself.
I steal a glance at him.
“Ronan—”
“Don’t even start, Ciara.”
“I’m just trying to explain?—”
He shakes his head. “I can’t right now. You don’t get it.”
I exhale as I fight the urge to throw up again.
We sit in tense silence for several minutes, and anger radiates off him in waves.
I understand why he’s furious, but I only did what had to be done.
Besides, he puts himself in danger every single day, and I never question it. But when the roles are reversed, suddenly I’m supposed to sit on the sidelines and be kept in a box like I’m made of glass?
Mila was in danger because of me, and I couldn’t just sit there and wait while something happened to her. I had to do something. He needs to understand this.
But as much as I want to explain it to him, I can’t deal with this cold, condescending silence a second longer.
“I need you to go home.” I’m exhausted and emotionally drained, and having Ronan brood beside me isn’t helping.
Ronan lifts his head to look at me. “What?”
“I asked you to go. I’ll call you when we’re discharged.”
His eyes narrow. “Are you seriously kicking me out right now?”
“You’re angry, and I get it. But sitting here glowering at me isn’t helping anyone, least of all Mila.” I sneak a glance at her in the next bed.
She hasn’t moved or said a word since the car, no doubt lost in her own grief.
“She needs peace as well as quiet. We both do.”
Ronan’s scowl deepens, but after a beat, he gets to his feet and walks to the door without another word.
I can’t deny his silence stings more than I want it to.
When the door clicks shut behind him, Mila finally breaks, and the sob that escapes her lips is raw, pulled from somewhere deep inside her.
I climb into her bed without hesitation, pulling her into my arms, and she curls into me.
