He hesitated, then said, almost violently earnest, “If you give me this chance, I’ll make sure you don’t regret it. Please… I can’t let you go. I’m begging you.”
My breath came shallow.
Part of me wanted to reach for him. Part of me wanted to disappear into the mattress and never feel anything again.
“I don’t know who you are,” I said, my voice trembling. “I don’t know which parts of you were real.”
“Give me the chance to show you who I am.” He bowed his head, forehead pressing briefly to the edge of the bed like a penitent.
Silence stretched between us, thick and fragile.
Patel was just outside the room, ready to pull Jace away the second this tipped too far.
“Please,” Jace said quietly, his eyes burning.
My chest hurt so badly I thought it might split open.
I didn’t know if this was love or obsession or something twisted and tangled in between.
All I knew was that when he knelt there, I couldn’t deny how much I missed him—how muchIloved him.
“I… can’t promise anything,” I whispered.
Relief crashed over his face.
“That’s okay,” he said quickly. “You don’t need to do anything.”
I turned my face into the pillow, exhausted and overwhelmed. “I’m tired now.”
“Okay,” he said gently. “Okay, baby. I’ll let you rest.”
Then he left.
And I lay there, heart racing, wondering if letting him backin—even just a little—was the biggest mistake of my life… or the hope that I’d needed in order to keep going.
5
Elior
It felt like time was different in here. Sometimes I thought it had been a few days. Sometimes it felt like months. I stopped trying to count after I realized I kept getting it wrong.
I was still here.
That much I knew.
The plastic tray sat in front of me, untouched. Steam curled weakly from the food, carrying a smell that should’ve made me hungry. Instead, it made my stomach twist, tight and hollow at the same time.
Jace said gently, “Can you try a few bites for me, cherub?”
I didn’t look at him. My gaze stayed fixed on the pale rectangle of nauseating mashed potatoes and the little plastic cup of something yellowish I didn’t recognize. My hands rested in my lap, fingers limp, like they didn’t belong to me anymore.
“I’m not hungry,” I murmured. I’d said that a lot lately.
I felt the mattress dip as he sat beside me. Not too close—not like he wanted to—but close enough that I couldfeel the warmth of him through my blanket. His presence still did something to me, still tugged at something deep in my chest, but even that felt dulled now, like my emotions were wrapped in thick cotton.
“Please, baby. They told me you haven’t eaten all day,” he said quietly. He kept his voice calm, but I could hear the strain under it, the way he was trying not to let it crack. “Just a few bites. You don’t have to finish it.”
I shrugged faintly. The movement felt like it took too much effort. “It doesn’t matter.”
