I force a smile. “Yeah. Just… remembering.”
She doesn’t push. Just leans harder against me, trusting me to hold her up.
We step inside.
The room responds immediately. The sheets ripple, Ether re-threading itself across the bed, cleansing what Riley left behind. The walls brighten. The vines at the window turn greener.
It’s like the room itself is exhaling.
I help her to the bed, and she sits on the edge, swaying slightly.
“Boots,” I say, kneeling in front of her.
She doesn’t argue, just lifts one foot, then the other. My hands shake as I pull them off, setting them aside carefully.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, already lying back against the pillows.
I should leave. Let her sleep. Find somewhere else to stand watch.
But before I can move, her hand catches mine.
“I want you here, Jace,” she whispers. “Please.”
My throat closes.
“Bree—”
“Please, Jace.” Her eyes are barely open, but there’s something raw in her voice. “I don’t want to be alone.”
I can’t say no to her. I never could.
“Okay,” I say quietly.
She shifts over, making room, and tugs me gently onto the bed beside her.
I lie down stiffly, every muscle locked. This is fine. This is just comfort. She needs someone, and I can be that person.
Even if it’s killing me.
Bree curls into my side immediately, her head resting on my chest, one arm draping across my ribs. She sighs—relief and exhaustion tangled together.
“I love you,” she breathes—barely a whisper, half dream.
And then she’s gone, sleep pulling her under.
I freeze.
The words hang in the air between us, and I don’t know if she even meant to say them. Don’t know if she’ll remember saying them.
But they’re mine now.
I wrap my arm around her shoulders, holding her close while my mind spirals through every reason I don’t deserve to hear those words from her.
And I lie there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, feeling her warmth against me.
This bed.
This room.
