Silence falls like ash.
I turn back to Nate, brushing my fingers over his temple. “He doesn’t need your apologies. He needs peace.”
I don’t look back at them as I speak my final words.
“You treated him like a puppet. But I won’t let you pull his strings anymore.”
And with that, I sit beside the man I love, blocking out the sound of their sobs as I anchor myself to his side.
Where I belong.
Chapter 26
Isabel
Three days after the surgery, Nathan still hasn’t opened his eyes.
I watch the steady rise and fall of his chest, that quiet rhythm that should bring comfort—but all I feel is dread crawling under my skin. I’m not sleeping, barely eating. Every time I close my eyes, reliving the moment his body convulsed, the way his hand twitched unnaturally, and I wake up gasping, reaching out for him.
But he’s not reaching back.
He just lies there, hooked to machines, covered in bandages and shadows.
I miss his voice.
I miss his eyes.
I miss him.
Time drips by like cold honey, slow and suffocating. The hospital room has become both sanctuary and prison. I read to him—his favorites, even the ones I know by heart. I hum old songs. I tell him what’s happening in the world, what’s on the front page of the paper, what kind of clouds are in the sky. Anything to fill the silence.
I try to work. God, I try. But I can’t concentrate. My mind is too loud and the world too quiet. I flip through mindless magazines, skim through legal drafts I can't retain, scroll through social media like a zombie. It doesn’t help. Nothing helps. The only time my heart calms is when I touch his hand or rest my cheek beside him, breathing in sync with him, hoping some part of him still feels me.
Gabriel and Grace left this morning. Back to London. “We have responsibilities,” they said. “Clients. Meetings. The Foundation.”
Of course. Their empire doesn’t sleep just because their son does.
They kissed his forehead and whispered promises to return soon. Grace looked back at me with watery eyes; Gabriel didn't look at all. But I saw something in him before he left—determination. Cold, calculating fury. I’d bet anything he’s going to dig through every inch of Nathan’s mission and who sent him into that field. Good. Let him.
I don’t care what happens to Gabriel’s pride as long as it brings answers.
I’m curled up on the edge of the armchair beside Nate’s bed when my phone buzzes on the table. Twice. Same ringtone I set just for him.
Sebastian.
I grab the phone and answer before the second ring ends. “Hey.”
His voice filters through the speaker, calm but tight. “How’s he doing?”
I sigh, letting the sound stretch a beat too long. “Still no change.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and I hear the guilt in it. He didn’t want to leave. God, he fought not to. He only flew back yesterday after K dragged him to the plane.
He hated going. I saw it in the way he stood in the hallway, fingers clenching and unclenching as if he could punch time forward.
“I should’ve stayed longer,” he says, echoing his thoughts.
“You couldn’t.” I try to soften my voice. “I told you. I’ve got this.”
