He blinked slowly, holding her gaze. “Say it again. Please. Nell. Say it again.”
Her fingers trembled as they brushed his forehead, pushing a loose strand of hair back. She shook her head slightly and pressed gently, insistently, against his chest. “Rest. You need to rest.”
“Nell.” He tried to lift himself, wincing as the movement tugged at his injury.
“Later.” Her hands held him firmly against the pillows. “We will talk later. When you are stronger.”
His back teeth ground together, but the pressure of exhaustion claimed him. His grip on her hand loosened, though he didn’t let go completely, while slowly, his eyelids fell, and his breathing evened as he drifted into deep sleep.
She stayed.
Hours later, Philippa found her still seated beside him, clutching his hand, her head resting lightly against the chair’s back. The afternoon sun had turned watery, spilling pale light across the room.
“He woke.” Nell’s hand didn’t move. Her gaze stayed fixed on him, unblinking. “He spoke to me.”
Philippa sank into the chair opposite, pressing a hand to her chest. Relief washed over her in slow waves. “Thank God. I was so afraid.”
“I know.” Nell replied.
A comfortable silence settled between them. The worst of the fear had finally passed.
“He asked why I came.” Nell said quietly, her eyes fixed on Dominic’s sleeping face. “I didn’t know what to tell him.”
“Did you not?” Philippa’s voice was gentle and knowing.
Nell finally looked at her friend. She saw the woman who had raised him and who understood the truth long before Nell had been willing to accept it.
“I was so determined to be sensible.” The words tumbled out of her now. “I was so determined not to make the same mistakesI made with my late husband, Gabriel. I wanted to protect my children, yet I wanted to build a life that no one could take from me. And then you came and said he was hurt, and I… I couldn’t stay away.”
“You love him.” Philippa said it as if it were the most obvious fact in the world.
“I refused him.” Nell’s voice cracked.
“And yet here you are.” Philippa gestured toward their intertwined hands. “You’ve been here all night. You haven’t let go of his hand once.”
Nell looked down at their fingers. His large hand engulfed her smaller one, holding on even in his dreams.
“I don’t know how to do this.” It was a whisper, barely audible. “I don’t know how to let myself...”
“You don’t have to know.” Philippa leaned forward. “You just have to stay.”
Stay. It was a simple word, yet it felt like the most terrifying thing in the world. She looked at Dominic, his breathing steady and the colour returning to his face; and she’d come when he needed her. She hadn’t hesitated.
Perhaps that was the only answer that mattered. She didn’t let go of his hand.
Twenty-Two
The fire had burned to embers.
Nell sat in the chair beside his bed, her hand still wrapped around his. She watched the shadows shift across the ceiling, tracing the slow movement of light. Hours had passed since he’d briefly woken, since he’d asked her to say it again and she’d deflected, since exhaustion had pulled him back under. The clock on the mantel read half past two in the morning. The storm had long since passed, leaving nothing but silence and the occasional creak of the old house settling around them.
She should sleep. Her vision burned with exhaustion. Her back ached from the awkward position. Her body felt heavy with the weight of the day. Each time she started to drift, her mind dragged her back.
She replayed Philippa in the doorway of the shop. She saw the panic on her face. She saw Dominic lying pale and bloodied in this very bed.
He almost died.
The thought kept circling, a vulture that wouldn’t land. He almost died, and when he was fading, he’d called for her. Onlyher. Even when he couldn’t remember his own name, he’d remembered hers.
