Page 86 of Stolen to Be Mine


Font Size:

She went out. While I was unconscious on the floor like dead weight.

“Hey. You’re awake!”

Her head whipped toward me, relief breaking across her face, fast and sharp.

“You scared the shit out of me.”

She scrambled over on her knees, one hand braced on the floor, the other reaching for my shoulder.

I grabbed her first, pulled her into my lap, arms locking around her.

She let me. Relaxed into the hold. Her weight solid and real against my chest.

“I’m okay. We’re okay.”

You left. You went outside. Alone.

The words wouldn’t come. They never did. Just pressure in my throat, mouth shaping sounds that died before reaching air.

But my grip said it. Tightening until she squeaked.

She saw it anyway. Always could.

“After you fainted, you slept until noon.” Gentle. Careful. “Almost nineteen hours. I checked your breathing every ten minutes like a paranoid person because you wouldn’t wake up.”

She pulled back enough to meet my gaze.

“I decided to go out for food. Quick trip. Corner market, two blocks. I was careful.”

My grip tightened.

“Xavier.” Firmer now. “You need a lot more than bus station crackers to get back to your old self. Your system shut down because you’ve been running on fumes, denial, and spite for days. Shocking. Who could have predicted ignoring basic human needs would have consequences?”

Sarcasm. Her default armor when defensive.

I kept holding on. Couldn’t let go yet.

She didn’t pull away. Just shifted in my lap, settling more comfortably.

“How do you feel? Dizzy? Nausea? Vision problems?”

I managed a headshake. Everything still felt... loose. Disconnected. Like my body was a car I was relearning to drive.

She touched my face, turning it toward the light. Professional. Clinical.

Except her fingers touched me so tenderly.

“Look at me.”

I obeyed.

Her thumb brushed just below one socket. “Pupils equal and reactive. Good.” Her touch slid to my throat, checking my pulse. Lingered there, pressed against the beat.

Longer than medically necessary.

Our eyes held.

She broke first, clearing her throat, reaching for the grocery bag.