I shake my head. “You've known him longer. You should?—“
“Emma.” Logan's voice is firm but kind. “Go.”
The room is dim. Monitors beep softly, a steady rhythm that sounds like a heartbeat. And there's Kai, pale against the white sheets, left ankle in a cast, scrapes and bruises marking his arms. A gash near his temple has been cleaned and stitched.
He looks smaller somehow. Fragile in a way I've never seen him.
I move to his bedside, hand hovering over his before I gently take it. His skin is warm. Real. Alive.
“You idiot,” I whisper, tears spilling down my cheeks.
His eyes flutter. Unfocused at first, then finding me.
“Emma.” His voice is rough, cracked. “You came.”
“Of course I came.” I squeeze his hand. “You scared me half to death.”
“Sorry.” His voice is barely there. “Didn't mean to.”
“You better not have.” I try to smile but it wobbles. “You scared all of us.”
He tries to shift, wincing. I put a hand on his shoulder. “Don't move. Bruised ribs.”
“Feels like it.” He looks at me, really looks, and something in his expression makes my heart stutter. “I kept thinking aboutyou. Before I blacked out. I kept thinking I didn't—“ He stops, swallows.
“Didn't what?”
His hand tightens around mine. “I didn't tell you.”
The words from my own panicked thoughts echo back at me. All the things I didn't say. All the moments I wasted being careful.
“Tell me now,” I whisper.
But his eyes are already closing, the painkillers dragging him back under. His grip on my hand loosens but doesn't let go.
I watch his chest rise and fall. Steady. Alive. My fingers find the hair at the back of his neck, the curls I've thought about so many times. Softer than I imagined. I stroke gently, careful not to wake him.
“I'm here,” I whisper. “I'm not going anywhere.”
The door opens quietly behind me. Dr. Reyes steps in.
“Ms. Sinclair? A word?”
I give Kai's hand one last squeeze before following her into the hallway. Logan and Ethan are there too.
“He's doing well,” Dr. Reyes says. “We'll keep him under observation given the concussion. I'll have the care guidelines ready for when he's discharged.”
“A few more days?” Logan asks.
“We’ll see. We want to monitor for any complications.”
She leaves. Logan exhales slowly.
“He can stay at his penthouse once he's out,” Logan says. “It's set up for accessibility. Elevator, wide doorways.”
“We can take shifts,” Ethan adds. “Cover the nights.”
“I want to help.” The words are out before I can second-guess them. “I can stay with him. Take the nights, or whenever I'm not at work. If you can cover the hours I'm at the office...”
