Liv grins, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Something about Alex having really nice arms and you not being able to die before getting a proper feel.”
I groan, closing my eyes. “Nope. That didn’t happen. You’re lying.”
Sophia giggles. “She’s actually not.”
Liv nudges me lightly. “Don’t worry, I’m sure he was flattered.”
I open one eye, glaring weakly. “I hate you both.”
“You love us,” Liv counters. “And we love you. Seriously, Em, we were so scared.”
The humor in her voice wavers, and Sophia sniffles quietly beside her, blinking rapidly.
“Hey,” I murmur, squeezing both their hands. “I’m still here.”
“Yeah, well, don’t do that again.” Liv sniffs dramatically, swiping at her eyes before pointing a finger at me. “You owe me for the emotional trauma. Do you know how much stress eating I’ve been doing while waiting for you to wake up?”
I smile, exhaustion tugging at me again. “How much?”
She crosses her arms. “A lot.”
I chuckle, weak but real.
Sophia continues to sniffle. “God, I hate crying. It makes my face all blotchy.
“You still look gorgeous,” I assure her, my eyelids growing heavier.
Liv snorts. “Of course she does. She’s one of those people who still looks cute after an ugly cry. I, on the other hand, resemble a swollen tomato.”
Sophia smacks her lightly. “That’s not true.”
Liv gasps. “So you’re saying I look like a normal tomato?”
I sigh, letting their ridiculous banter wrap around me like a warm blanket.
I’m not alone. I am still here.
And despite the weight of the scar I haven’t had the courage to fully look at yet, the grief for the person whose heart now beats inside of me, I feel… okay. Or at least now I know I will be.
Alex walks in a few minutes after they leave, eyes lighting up with relief as he sees me awake, and I realize something: I’m not just alive,I am loved.
40
ALEX
The second my eyes land on her, something in my chest eases. Emma is more awake than she has been the last couple days and the smile she wears is one I never thought I would see again.
For three weeks, I’ve been stuck in an awful limbo, half-alive, half-dead, waiting for something, anything to tell me she was going to be okay.
It’s such a relief to see her like this now.
I walk toward her slowly, afraid if I move too fast I’ll realize that this is some cruel dream and I’ll wake up. But when I reach the edge of her bed and press a kiss to her forehead, I am relieved to find out she is actually here and real. My hand slides into her hair, fingers curling softly against her scalp as I take her in.
She exhales, leaning into my touch. “I’m okay,” she murmurs. “You can breathe now, Alex.”
I know that I should believe her but part of me is still terrified that things will change at any moment.
“Get in,” she says, patting the space beside her.
