The room settles into a new rhythm. Wedding logistics. Security recalibrations. Someone mentions the bachelorette party, and there's a beat of silence before Tasha fills it.
"We'll do something after the wedding When things settle."
Lita grins, sharp and bright. "Or we skip the bachelorette and throw her the most epic baby shower ever."
Nick glances at me, surprise flickering through the exhaustion. "You told them?"
I bite my lip. "They sussed it out of me about thirty seconds after I sat down with them at lunch the other day. Apparently I had 'a glow.'"
His mouth curves. Then he chuckles, low under his breath, the first real hint of him relaxing since the rooftop. "I couldn't keep it from Gabe or Beck either."
Beck smirks, nodding toward Nick. "You're not the only one glowing, Avery. This guy's practically nuclear withproud dadvibes."
Laughter fills the room. I sink into the sound of it, let it settle around me. Not as a shield, but a reminder. That today didn't end the way it could have. That we're still here. All of us.
My hospital room is full of people who love me. Tasha smoothing my blankets even though they don't need smoothing. Eve and Gabe perched close, his hand on her knee. Beck by the window, phone pressed to his ear again, but present. Lita on the sill, cracking a joke that makes Matt shake his head and grin. Rachel in the corner, fielding texts on her phone between conversations.
And Nick. His hand warm and strong around mine. His body a gravitational constant beside me, the thing every other element in this room arranges itself around, the way light arranges itself around a source.
This is my family. Not blood, but choice. Not obligation, but showing up. Being here for me when it matters most.
But someone else important is missing from this picture.
I lean toward Nick, my voice low. "We need to call my mom."
"Already handled. I called her while the doctors were examining you. I'm flying her in tomorrow. She'll be here in the morning." He pauses, his eyes soft on mine. "I thought you'd want her here before Saturday."
He knew. Before I asked, before I even fully formed the thought, he knew what I needed. My mother, who went to prisonto protect me, who lost a decade of her life so I could have mine. She’ll be here tomorrow. After what happened today, the thought of her arms around me undoes something I've been holding together all afternoon. My vision blurs.
"Thank you."
He leans toward me and gently lifts my chin on the edge of his hand. The kiss is slow, deliberate, his mouth warm against mine, the scratch of stubble against my skin sending a low, tired shiver through me. He tastes like stale hospital coffee, but I don’t care. I lean into his kiss, wanting more, wanting to stay here in the warmth of his mouth and forget every other thing that happened today. He pulls back too soon, his forehead resting against mine for a breath before he settles back into his chair.
After a while, the room begins to empty. Gabe and Eve leave first. He has work to coordinate, exhaustion carved into the lines of his face. Eve hugs me gently. "We'll see you Saturday."
Beck pauses long enough to grip Nick's shoulder, the bond of their friendship compressed into a single gesture. "I've got everything handled. Focus on her."
"Thanks, brother," Nick murmurs.
Rachel squeezes my hand on her way out, her composure intact again but her eyes still red. "Rest. I'll handle the press. That's what you pay me for."
Lita bends to hug me, her leather jacket creaking. "For the record," she murmurs near my ear, "if that woman had hurt you, I'd have found her myself. And I wouldn't have been as merciful." She straightens up, winks. "But since we're being classy about it, heal up, babe. I'll save the revenge fantasies for my next sculpture."
Matt touches my shoulder. Brief, warm, the kind of quiet gesture that carries more than most people's speeches. "See you this weekend, Avery."
They leave together, Lita's combat boots fading down the corridor.
Tasha lingers longest. She hugs me one more time, her cheek damp against mine.
"Call me," she whispers. "I don't care what time. If you need anything—anything at all."
"I will. Promise."
Then she's gone too.
The door clicks shut, and the room contracts around us. Just Nick and me and the rhythmic sounds of the monitors and the low hum of the hospital settling into its evening quiet.
For a long moment, neither of us speaks.
