A couple of hours later, Aiden is officially released.
While he finishes getting dressed, I speak with the nurse right outside his door, listening carefully as she walks me through the instructions for the next few days. She explains the follow-up visits they want scheduled and the symptoms we should watch for once he’s home. If any of them appear—difficulty breathing, worsening dizziness, confusion, persistent shivering—she tells me we should bring him back immediately.
I nod through all of it, committing every word to memory.
“I will,” I promise her.
When everything is ready, I bring good old Rusty around to the front of the hospital just as a male nurse brings Aiden outside in a wheelchair. The morning air brushes across my face as I step out of the driver's side, and I move closer to Aiden while the nurse helps him stand and guides him carefully toward the truck.
His movements are slow and careful, his arms and legs still weak from everything his body went through the day before. The doctors warned me about this, explaining that his muscles wouldfeel sore and heavy for a few days while his body continues recovering from the shock.
“Easy,” the nurse says while helping him settle into the passenger seat.
Once he’s seated, I reach into my backpack and pull out my beanie and the blanket April brought me the night before. I place the beanie over his hair and tuck the blanket carefully around his legs and part of his torso, making sure the cold air doesn’t reach him.
As I adjust the blanket, he lets out a small laugh, his hands come up and cup my face, pulling me gently toward him until his lips meet mine.
His kiss is warm and lingering, and for a moment, I forget we are standing in the middle of a hospital parking lot.
When he finally lets me go, I shake my head at him, smiling as I close the passenger door.
The drive back to his house is quiet but comfortable. Now and then, I glance over at him to make sure he’s still warm beneath the blanket, and each time I do, I find him watching me, his relaxed expression showing he’s finally beginning to feel like himself again.
When we turn onto his street, I expect to see Nathan with his wife and the dogs, or even April and Max, who are staying at my house.
Finn standing beside his truck, however, is not something I expect.
“Oh, good,” Aiden mutters beside me, amusement creeping into his voice. “Your boyfriend is here.”
I roll my eyes as I pull Rusty into his driveway.
“Hold on,” I tell him as I put the truck in park. “Let me help you out.”
I rush to step around the front of the truck, but Finn reaches and opens the passenger door before I get to.
“Princess,” Finn says to Aiden, offering him his hand.
I smack the back of Finn’s arm as I reach them.
“Behave.”
Finn only chuckles.
“Come on, lassy,” he says, turning back to Aiden. “Give me your hand so I can help you, or I’ll be obligated to carry you inside.”
Aiden rolls his eyes but takes Finn’s arm anyway, using it for support as he slowly steps down from the truck.
The moment his feet hit the ground, he winces.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Why am I this sore?”
“Because,” Finn answers casually as he steadies him, “your core body temperature dropped below ninety-five degrees. Should I explain basic hypothermia to you?”
“God, you’re a dick.”
Finn only grins as the two of them begin making their way slowly toward the house.
I hurry ahead of them and knock on the door before they reach the porch. A moment later, it swings open, and Andrés appears on the other side.
