“I am here.” She whispered the words, squeezing his hand like she could pull him back to the surface. “Dominic. I am here.”
He went still. The frantic movements stopped, and his eyes fluttered, half opening to reveal clouded, unfocused depths of grey. He stared at her as if he were not entirely sure she was real, like she might dissolve into the shadows if he were to blink.
“You came.” A ghost of a smile touched his lips, weak and full of wonder. “I thought I was dreaming. I am always dreaming of you.”
“You are not dreaming.” She brought his hand to her cheek, pressing his cold fingers against her warm skin. “I am here. I am real.”
His hand twitched in hers. It was weak, but it was there, trying to hold on to the anchor she provided.
“Don’t leave.” His eyes began to close again, the sheer weight of exhaustion pulling him back under. “Please… don’t leave me...”
“I won’t.” The words came without thought or hesitation. She leaned closer to him. “I am not going anywhere.”
He sighed. It was a sound that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside him, a final settling of his spirit. It was like he could finally rest, having received the permission he required. His breathing evened out, becoming deeper and steadier than it had been since the accident. His grip on her hand loosened, but he didn’t release her.
She didn’t let go.
Edmund watched from across the bed, his face a carefully maintained blank mask. Philippa stood in the doorway, one hand pressed hard against her mouth to stifle a sob while tears streamed silently down her cheeks. The room fell quiet, save for the rain lashing against the windows and the low crackle of the fire.
“He needs rest.” Edmund finally broke the silence, the words clipped as he snapped his medical bag shut. “The next few hours will tell us more.”
“Will he—” Nell couldn’t finish. She looked down at the way her fingers were intertwined with Dominic’s.
“I don’t know.” Edmund’s reply was raw with a sudden, unexpected gentleness. He stepped toward the fire, the orange light catching the exhaustion in his face. “Head injuries are unpredictable. But he is strong. And he is calmer now than he has been all day.”
Neither of them said the obvious reason why. Both of them simply knew.
“I should check the bandage.” Edmund moved back to the head of the bed. “I must change the dressing.”
Nell started to rise, intending to give him room to work, but Dominic’s hand tightened on hers. It was a weak but insistent grip, an anchor he refused to let go of even in the depths of unconsciousness.
“Stay.” The word was a ghost of a sound, barely a breath against the pillow. “Nell… stay...”
“I am staying.” She settled back onto the edge of the mattress, her free hand smoothing the dark, matted hair back from his forehead. “I am not leaving.”
Edmund worked around her, unwrapping the bloodied cloth and cleaning the wound with steady, practiced efficiency. But his eyes, when they briefly met hers across Dominic’s prone form, held a painful clarity. He understood now why she’d said no that morning.
“You love him.” He didn’t ask; he simply stated it the way reading a final diagnosis.
She didn’t deny it. She couldn’t. “I didn’t mean to.” The confession was a mere thread of sound, an apology offered to the man she was hurting.
“No one ever does.” Edmund finished wrapping the fresh linen and stepped back to gather his supplies. “I will return in a few hours to check his progress.”
“Thank you.” The words felt entirely insufficient for a man who had offered her his life and received only this revelation in return.
“Take care of him.” Edmund fastened his bag, his posture straight and his composure absolute. “He needs you more than he needs me at this moment.”
He left then. He moved quietly, without looking back.
Twenty-One
Philippa brought a heavy chair upholstered in worn velvet and helped Nell settle beside the bed. The position was awkward, for Nell’s arm had to stretch across the mattress to maintain her grip on Dominic’s hand, but she cared nothing for her own comfort. Couldn’t think about anything except the steady rise and fall of his chest, the warmth slowly returning to his fingers, the sound of his breathing in the quiet room.
“You should rest.” Philippa stood beside the chair, her hand resting gently on Nell’s shoulder. “I can sit with him for a while.”
“No.” Nell did not look away from Dominic’s pale face. “I promised him I would stay.”
Philippa remained quiet for a long moment, studying her. Then she nodded, a soft, knowing expression crossing her face.
