Murphy wrapped his hand around the cup, warm against his palm, and when he lifted it to glance at the side, his breath caught. Written in Hillary’s looping handwriting:Rookie—with a little heart dotting thei.
It was nothing. It was everything. The sight nearly brought tears to his eyes.
Slowly, he lifted his gaze from the cup to her. She was watching him from across the room, trying not to fidget, the faintest smile playing at her lips.
The air between them softened.
Murphy didn’t think. He just moved. Crossing the kitchen in a few long strides, he pulled her into his arms, hugging her tight before tipping his head down to capture her lips in a kiss.
Behind them, Maddie groaned. “Ugh, gross. People are trying to eat donuts here.”
Murphy laughed against Hillary’s mouth, but he didn’t let go. He just kissed her again, sweeter this time, because even in this house, even in the middle of so much uncertainty, she’d found a way to make him feel grounded.
The drive felt longer than it was, tension filling every quiet minute. By the time they wound their way back through the hospital corridors, Murphy’s chest was tight.
When they stepped into Patrick’s room, though, the sight loosened it a bit.
Patrick was propped up in bed, color back in his cheeks, an IV still taped to his arm, but his hands firmly wrapped around a video game controller. On the rolling tray beside him, his Switch lit up withAnimal Crossing.
“ . . . and then I moved the Able Sisters’ shop so it’s closer to the beach,” Patrick was explaining proudly, his voice scratchy but determined, “because that’s where all my villagers like to fish. You gotta keep your villagers happy.”
Maddie rushed forward with a laugh, dropping her bag at the end of the bed. “Of course, you’re already running a whole town. You don’t even rest when you’re recovering.”
Their mom was standing by the bed, eyes damp but smiling as she brushed Patrick’s hair back. Their dad leaned against the wall, arms folded, but his whole posture relaxed for the first time in days.
Murphy stood frozen just inside the door, Hillary at his side, his throat tight.
Patrick finally noticed him, brightening instantly. “Murph! You’re here!”
Murphy swallowed hard, stepped forward, and ruffled his brother’s hair. “Wouldn’t miss it, buddy.”
Murphy tilted his head toward Hillary. “And I brought my girlfriend. This is Hillary.”
“Hi, Hillary. Want to see my town?”
Hillary smiled warmly, her voice catching just slightly. “I’d love to.”
The room buzzed with warmth, even against the antiseptic walls and beeping monitors. Laughter rolled out of Patrick as he argued with Maddie about which villager in hisAnimal Crossingtown had the best house, and his eyes met with Hillary’s across the room. She gave him a small smile.
That’s when his dad clapped a hand on his shoulder.
“Come on, kiddo. Walk with me to the cafeteria. I could use some coffee, and I think you could too.”
Murphy hesitated, glancing at Patrick, but his mom gave him a reassuring nod. Hillary was leaning close, listening as Patrick explained the rules of turnip trading, her smile soft and genuine. Patrick was in good hands.
So Murphy followed his dad out into the sterile hallway. The contrast was immediate. The quiet hum of machines wasreplaced with the squeak of nurses’ shoes and the smell of burnt coffee drifting from somewhere down the corridor.
They sat at a corner table, trays between them. Murphy picked at his sandwich, appetite gone, while his dad tore open a packet of ketchup like it was the most normal morning in the world.
After a long stretch of silence, his dad finally said, “So. This girl. Hillary.” His eyes slid over with that same sharpness Murphy remembered from childhood—the look that meant he already knew the answer, but wanted to hear it anyway. “Is it serious?”
Murphy’s chest tightened. For a second, he wanted to dodge, wanted to say something light. But this wasn’t Conner razzing him in the locker room. This was his dad.
He took a breath, forced himself to meet his father’s eyes.
“Yeah,” he said, voice low but steady. “It is. She’s . . . more than I ever expected, and I don’t want to let her go.”
His dad studied him for a beat, then nodded slowly, as if weighing the words. “Good.” He leaned back, wrapping his big hands around the paper coffee cup. “You deserve something serious. Something that’s yours. You’ve spent most of your life giving everything to this family, Murph. It’s about time you let yourself be happy.”
