“But we’re going to get through this,” she says. “Whatever happens. I’m always going to be right there next to you, just like you are for me. You’re going to be a great dad. A great husband, Drago. You are everything to us.”
Her voice trembles just slightly, but it doesn’t break. “Whether a miracle happens and he pulls through… or whether we have to honor his memory… we will do that.”
She leans closer, forehead brushing mine. “I’ve got you, Drago.”
And fuck.
I never knew how much I needed someone to tell me it was going to be okay, until I had Lily in my arms.
To treat me like I’m human. Like emotions don’t make me weak. Like love doesn’t ruin men.
Because they’re wrong. It doesn’t.
Lily’s love has fucking saved me.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, baby,” I whisper, pressing my nose to hers, letting my eyes close.
And for the first time in twenty-four hours, I don’t see blood.
I don’t see Lev on the floor. I don’t see Maria’s eyes.
I see the sea. The art gallery. Her laughing under sunlight like she never belonged in the dark at all.
“You need to get some sleep, Drago,” Lily whispers. “Let me do this. I’ll be okay.”
She glances at the sponge, the bucket, the hallway, like she’s willing to clean every stain if it means I’ll breathe.
“And then we can cook some food,” she continues softly, “and call Finn to see if we can get into the hospital to see him. Does that sound okay?”
I shake my head, not trusting my voice. Because if I speak, I’ll crack open again.
Instead, I wrap my arms around her and pull her flush against me, holding her like she’s the only thing keeping my heart beating.
My hands slide into her hair.
I breathe her in and anchor myself.
“I promise you,” I whisper into her temple, “we will never have to live like this again, Lily.”
She nods against me. “I know,” she murmurs. “We just have to get through this first.”
“You’re not cleaning this. Neither of us is. I’ll speak to Declan, get someone in.”
She blows out a breath like it’s a relief to her, too.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT
Lily
One day later…
I have the pregnancy test in my purse. It’s all I can think about as we walk down the corridor towards Dad’s room.
Outside of this, I’m not sure where we’re heading anymore.
Monaco feels like a dream in the distance now. Something imagined. Something soft and safe that life has decided we don’t deserve yet.
I don’t have the confidence to do the test here, though.
