He pulls back slowly, resting his forehead against mine, eyes closed like he needs a second to hold himself together. “I thought I lost you,” he whispers.
“I thought you were dead,” I whisper back.
His hand slides back to my stomach, not possessive, not questioning. Just there. Protective. Careful. Like he’s afraid even touching me might hurt. “We’ll figure it out,” he says softly, even though his voice still shakes. “Whatever it is. Together.”
I nod, tears slipping free despite my best effort to stop them. “Together.”
He kisses my forehead, my temple, my cheek, each one gentler than the last, like he’s rebuilding something piece by piece.
I wake up slow, wrapped in warmth and weight and the steady rise and fall of Blade’s chest beneath my cheek.
For a few blessed seconds, I don’t move. I just listen.
Voices drift through the room. Bella. Brooke. Rev. Switch. Low, familiar, overlapping in that way that tells me everything is still happening, still spinning, but I’m safe enough right now to stay still.
Blade’s arm is locked around me, his hand splayed wide over my back like he fell asleep guarding me and never once loosened his grip. My fingers curl into his shirt on instinct. I don’t even remember falling asleep, just the quiet and his heartbeat and the way my body finally gave up.
I’m not really listening to what they’re saying. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that they’re here. That the room smells like coffee and leather and something cooking somewhere down the hall. That this feels real.
Then my stomach drops.
Hard.
Heat rushes up my throat so fast I barely have time to register it before panic kicks in. I suck in a sharp breath and push myself upright, one hand flying to my mouth.
“No,” I whisper, already scrambling.
Blade’s awake instantly. “Bri?”
I don’t answer. I can’t.
I bolt.
I barely make it to the bathroom before I’m on my knees, hands gripping the porcelain as my body folds in on itself. I retch violently, everything coming up in painful waves, my throat burning, my eyes watering as I try and fail to keep it quiet.
Blade’s there immediately.
He drops behind me, one hand gently pulling my hair back from my face, the other rubbing slow circles between my shoulders like he’s done this a hundred times before. His touch is steady. Grounding.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs close to my ear. “You’re okay. Let it happen. I’m right here.”
Another wave hits and I gag, shaking, my whole body trembling now that I’m not forcing myself to hold it together. He doesn’t rush me. Doesn’t pull away. Just stays.
Behind us, I hear movement.
“Brooke,” Blade says without turning around, voice calm but firm. “Can you grab her some water? Maybe crackers or something light.”
“I’m on it,” Brooke replies instantly, already moving.
Bella hovers in the doorway, worry written all over her face, but Blade gives her a look that says he’s got this.
When the worst of it finally passes, I slump forward, forehead resting against the toilet seat, breathing hard and shaky. Blade keeps rubbing my back, slow and patient, like he knows my body needs time to catch up.
“There you go,” he whispers. “That’s it. Breathe, baby. Just breathe.”
I nod weakly, unable to speak yet, tears slipping down my cheeks from exhaustion more than pain.
I rinse my mouth out at the sink, cool water washing away the sour taste and some of the humiliation that clings to it. Blade keeps a hand on my back the whole time, steady and warm, like an anchor. When my legs stop shaking, he helps me back into the bedroom and sits me down on the edge of the bed. He stays close, rubbing slow circles into my back as I catch my breath. That’s when I really notice the silence.
