"You were barely breathing. By the time I got to you, you were already half gone." I gave his hand the gentlest squeeze. "I'm glad I didn't wait."
His gaze drifted past me, and his expression went empty in that unsettling, detached way I'd seen before. He was locking himself behind a wall to avoid processing what I just told him.
In the quiet that followed, I debated whether to confirm my suspicions. I didn't want to send Rowan into another panic attack... But I needed to know for sure. "Rowan... Did Marcus do this to you?"
For a long while, he didn't move. I didn't press for an answer, but then, slowly, he gave a single stiff nod.
I couldn't even put words to the fury that flared in my chest.
His eyes stayed fixed on some point on the far wall, distant and blank. His jaw clenched tight, and I caught the faintest flinch each time he tried to breathe too deep. I wanted to do something to ease that pain, but I didn't even know where to start.
When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. "He... He just barged in. I don't – " He cut himself off and pressed his lips together, as if to force the rest of it down before I heard too much.
My heart twisted. I just couldn't make sense of it. How could anyone look at Rowan and think of hurting him? He was ... Rowan. Thoughtful. Patient. Unfailingly kind.
And now he was lying in a hospital bed because of that arsehole.
I had to fight the urge to tighten my grip on his hand. The anger hadn’t left since I found him, but now it was turning into a thick, choking fear I couldn’t ignore.
I'd almost lost him. If I hadn't gone to his flat when I did, that text never would've come. I wouldn't have checked on him for at least another hour. And by then, he could've been –
The thought made me sick. I couldn't get the scenario out of my head where I walked in just a little too late. Where Rowan slipped away when no one was there to help him.
I tried to push the thought away and focus instead on the feel of his hand in mine. His fingers started to quiver again, but he didn't pull away. After all this, that alone felt like a miracle.
When I looked up at him again, something in his face caught me off guard. He looked lost. Like he couldn't quite understand how this happened. Or that some part of him thought he brought this on himself.
I tightened my grip on his hand enough for him to feel it. "This isn't your fault, Ro. Whatever you're thinking, it's not on you. Not a single bit of it."
That finally got him to look at me. His eyes were unfocused, clouded with pain, but they seemed to clear just a little. He blinked, like his mind was only now catching up to the fact that I was there. His mouth opened, but whatever he meant to say died out before he could form the words.
My heart ached with a sharp, desperate need to fix this. To make him believe that I wouldn't let anyone hurt him again. I wanted to pull him close, to shield him from anything that could ever cause him pain. My pulse kicked up, my stomach twisted – and it suddenly clicked that this wasn't just fear for afriend.
The realisation made my head spin. I couldn't pinpoint a single moment when it changed. I just knew that seeing him so bruised and vulnerable shattered something in me.
I couldn't lose him. I couldn't even imagine a world where he wasn't part of my life.
I cared about Rowan. Of course I did. But "best friend" didn't cover it anymore. The fierce, protective surge in my veins came from something else entirely.
The thought terrified and calmed me at the same time. Like I'd known it deep down for a while but hadn't let myself look at it too closely. Now I couldn't avoid it. And a lot of things I'd noticed over the years suddenly madesomuch more sense.
For now, though, I shoved down the jumble of emotions crashing around in my head and gave his hand another gentle squeeze. "You're gonna be okay," I said softly, brushing a thumb over his knuckles. "I promise."
I couldn't tell if he believed me. He just nodded faintly, his foggy gaze still fixed on mine. I stayed quiet to give him time to make sense of my words. And to give myself a chance to recover from the truth that had just caught up to me.
Now that Rowan seemed calmer, I let myself take a closer look at his face. The bruising had gotten a bit worse, spreading along his jaw and up toward his temple as it deepened into a dark, angry purple. The stitches still looked raw, and when my eyes almost slipped to the marks on his neck, I forced myself to look elsewhere.
I wanted to make it all go away. But all I could do was stay close and hope it was enough to keep him from spiralling.
Gently, I let go of his hand and reached up to brush a few strands of hair out of his eyes. He flinched when my fingers barely brushed against his skin. It was a tiny movement, but it broke my heart all over again.
Without thinking, I leaned down to press a light, lingering kiss to his forehead. He tensed beneath me, but I stayed close enough that he could feel my presence. And hopefully understand that he wasn't alone in this anymore.
When I finally sat back, I couldn't stop the quiet confession that slipped out. "You scared the shit out of me, Ro."
His eyes darted to mine, wide and startled. I didn't even try to hide the raw fear that had been gnawing at me since I found him on the floor.
"Why didn't you tell me things were this bad?" I asked, keeping my voice gentle. I didn't want to jar him. "I couldn't handle it if something happened to you."
