I return to his side and sit.
Hours pass.
Nurses come and go, their footsteps light, their voices quieter than whispers. Machines beep in soft intervals. The IV drips. But no one says anything. No news. Just waiting.
I rest my forehead against his hand. His skin is warm, but still.
“I’m here, love,” I whisper. “You’re not alone.”
My fingers tighten around his.
“We’ll get through this. Together. But you have to be strong for me now, okay?”
My voice wavers, but I force it steady. He needs strength, not my fear.
I lean in and press a kiss to his forehead. It’s soft, careful, reverent.
“Can you do that for me, Nate?”
My tears sting, but I hold them back.
“Come back to me. Please.”
Because no matter what we’ve been through, no matter the silence, the distance, the pain—he’s my home.
And I don’t know how to breathe without him.
I must have dozed off at some point. My head jerks up from the edge of the bed, and the first thing I see is Nate’s still form, chest rising gently, steady beeps from the monitor syncing with my pulse.
He’s still here.
A knock breaks the silence, soft but firm. Before I can answer, the door opens, and the energy in the room shifts like a gust of wind forcing its way through.
Sebastian steps in, sharp in black, hair a little mussed, dark circles beneath his eyes. Behind him, his bodyguard—K—moves like a shadow, expression unreadable but alert.
“Jesus,” Sebastian breathes as he takes in the room. “You look like hell, Izzy.”
I laugh bitterly. “Nice to see you too, Your Highness.”
He crosses the room in a few strides and pulls me into a hug. For a second, I melt into it, grip his jacket like it’s a lifeline. He smells like jet fuel and leather. Familiar.
“You flew all the way from Greendale?”
“New York and you should’ve called me sooner.”
“I couldn’t. I didn’t know how to say the words out loud.”
He nods, like he understands more than I’ve even said.
K lingers in the corner but I can feel his gaze sweep the room like a silent protector. Nate would like him.
Sebastian gestures to the chair beside Nate. “Sit down, Izzy. You look like you haven’t slept in days.”
“I haven’t.” I sink into the chair. “He hasn’t texted me in days. I don’t know what happened. He just went cold. I thought—I thought maybe he changed his mind about us.”
Sebastian crouches next to me. “He didn’t.”
“You don’t know that,” I whisper.
