The ache sharpens. I drop my head into my hands.
“I crossed a line. And it’s not just guilt. It’s worse than that. Because part of me doesn’t regret it.”
I force out a breath. Try again.
“I saw you in him,” I whisper. “That edge. That spark. The kind of player who makes you believe again.”
But that’s the problem. Belief is what gets people hurt. Belief is what let me send Xavier back onto that field.
I glance up at him, still staring out the window like there’s something waiting for him on the other side of the glass.
“I’m sorry,” I say, quieter this time. “Not just for what happened. Not just for what I did to you.”
The words catch in my throat, but I force them out anyway.
“I’m sorry that part of me is falling for someone else.”
It feels like betrayal, even spoken into the silence. Even when Xavier won’t respond.Can’trespond.
“I didn’t mean to,” I whisper. “I didn’t think Icould.”
But something about Luke cracked the dam I’ve spent years building.The same dam I buried you behind. And now I’m standing here, watching you fade, while wanting someone else who’s still so dangerously alive.
I reach for his hand. Cold. Loose. Unaware.
“It should’ve been you,” I whisper. “Itwasyou.”
The door creaks open behind me, soft footsteps padding into the room. I don’t look up until a hand rests lightly on my shoulder.
“Sorry to interrupt,” a familiar voice says, warm and careful. “Just doing my rounds.”
I glance up to find Nurse Callahan standing beside me, her smile soft. She’s been here almost as long as I’ve been visiting. One of the few people who never asks questions she already knows the answers to. We were all friends once.
“I didn’t mean to break the moment,” she says gently. “But I figured you’d want to hear—Xavier’s had a good week. He’s been calm. No agitation, no overnight episodes.”
My chest tightens. “That’s good.”
She nods. “We even got him out into the courtyard. Sat in the sun for almost an hour.”
I blink hard against the sudden burn behind my eyes. “He always liked the sun.”
“I remember,” she says, voice even softer now. “He used to tease you for hiding in the shade.”
A breath escapes me. Half a laugh, half a wound.
Her hand squeezes my shoulder. “He knows you’re here, Silas. I can’t explain it, but… he always settles more when you’ve come by.”
I stare down at our hands—mine calloused and dark, his loose and pale in his lap.
“I don’t deserve that,” I murmur.
“Doesn’t matter.” Her voice is firm now, kind but steady. “You keep coming. That’s what matters.”
I nod, swallowing the knot in my throat.
She steps back toward the door, pausing before she leaves. “Stay as long as you like. I’ll bring some fresh water in case he gets restless.”
Then she’s gone, the soft click of the door closing behind her. And I’m left in the silence again, Xavier’s hand in mine. My guilt thick in the air.
