“Oh.Has he been staying at your place?”His brow lifts.
“Please don’t tell your dad,” I whisper.
“I won’t.I’m just surprised he skipped the Christmas party and didn’t stop by the house.”He shrugs.
“Yeah, he insisted on working from my place.”
“That’s fine.I’ve been slammed the past few weeks with mock trial prep, barely even home.But Dad made me show up.Honestly, I admire him for standing up to our father.Was that because of you?”
“I don’t know,” I sigh.The truth sits too heavy to unpack.The only thing I know, he's hurt because of me.
He gives a faint smile.“You still haven’t told me everything.”
So I tell him.Two hours slip by as I recount everything—from New York, to Alan, to the warehouse.My voice cracks once, maybe twice.Lloyd listens, silent, his jaw tight.
“That’s insane.Laird said he's going to look for you in New York and all.I thought he was kidding,” he mutters.
“Yeah.Tell me about it.”
“The world flips upside down because of women sometimes,” he says, half laughing.
“Should I be offended?”
“Please don’t.I mean that women rule the world.”He chuckles, and for a second, it’s Laird’s voice I hear.We stare at Laird in silence.Lloyd is the first to break the quiet moment.“Are you staying until he wakes up?”
“Yes.”
“You’re spending the night here?”He confirms in disbelief.
“Yeah.”
“You’renotgoing home?”
“No.I’ll stay.”
He studies me, expression softening.“Then hang tight.I’ll handle the paperwork and grab you a blanket and the family card.”His hand rubs my shoulder for a second—gentle, almost brotherly.
“Thanks, Lloyd,” I whisper.He nods and walks out.
I stare at Laird again.The machines keep breathing for him.I press my hand to the edge of the bed, tracing the warmth that’s still there, and let my body finally shake.Pain surges through my body, but relief tackles it all.It numbs everything at the thought that Laird’s hurt worse than I am.All because of me.
* * *
“Fenella.”
I wake up when a hand strokes my head.I blink, trying to focus.My neck aches, stiff from sleeping in a chair, and my chest flutters with sudden relief, almost dizzying.I lift my head and see Laird’s face.His emerald eyes meet mine, a small, reassuring smile on his lips.My heart sinks and soars at the same time.
“Laird!”I exclaim, voice trembling a little.
“Hey,” he smiles as I wipe my cheek and the corners of my mouth.
“Hey, baby.Oh, thank God.”I press a long kiss to his forehead, then his cheek, and a quick peck on his lips.My eyes sting, but it’s not the time to cry, so I hold it in.He chuckles, then flinches and groans.My stomach twists.Did I hurt him?I hate that all I can do is sit here.
“How are you feeling?Does it hurt anywhere?”I ask, pulling back, scanning his bandaged stomach.No blood seeps through.The bandages look clean.My hands clench, relief running silently through me.
“It’s okay.I was just playing a trick on you,” he grins.
“What?Liar!”I tap his shoulder lightly, pouting.Tears well up, but I blink them away.He’s safe.Thank God.
