Hands grab me before I fall and hit the floor. Strong arms. Micah.
I collapse into him, sobbing so hard I can’t catch air, my face buried in his shoulder as my body betrays me completely. My heart feels like it’s splintering, cracking open piece by piece, each one slicing deeper into surrounding flesh than the last. I’ve never known a pain like this.
“I can’t—” I choke. “I can’t feel my hands. My face. I can’t—Micah, he left us.He left me.”
Heather’s crying somewhere to my left.
A nurse rushes in, her voice too calm for my current state of mind. “Okay, sweetheart, I need you to breathe with me. Can you look at me?”
I can’t.
All I can see is him. All I canfeelis the echo of his absence. The hollow space he ripped open inside my chest when he disappeared again without warning, without a proper goodbye or chance to convince him to stay.
I just had him back.
And now he’s gone.
The room is dark except for the glow of the hallway bleeding in beneath the heavy hospital door. Two days have passed. I know because the nurse told me this morning. Two days of IVs, sedatives, doctors explaining that my heart is under “severe stress,” that my body essentially short-circuited under the panic and the grief. It completely stopped making sense, firing pain, numbness, and tightness over and over.
Broken-heart syndrome,they call it. They said my heart will recover quickly since I'm young, but they don't know me. They don't know how much I love Jude Graves.
My body feels heavy now, loaded with a myriad of drugs I can’t even pronounce. I haven’t felt…here since he left. When I found out what happened, I collapsed into Micah, and we cried together sitting in the driveway of the beach house. But I spiraled so hard before I could truly grasp everything that happened. So I know I need to talk to Micah, and figure out once and for all what the hell went wrong.
He and Heather are sitting on the small couch by the window that’s currently made into the bed they’ve been sleeping on. They haven’t left my side. Heather’s knees are tucked to her chest, her head resting against Micah’s shoulder. Micah stares at the floor like he still can’t believe what happened, either. He’s been very quiet, considering his best friend abandoned him, too.
I’m finally aware of the suffocating silence, so I break it. “What happened to him? Can you tell me what made him leave?”
Micah exhales slowly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He drags a hand through his messy blonde hair, fingers snagging. “You don’t want this answer right now,” he says quietly. “Theyjustgot you stable, Emma.”
“I don’t care,” I whisper. “Not knowing is going to be worse for me. I know it’s bad…you said as much the other day. But I want to know more." I pause, feeling the heaviness of the drugs smoothing over the rougher edges of my anxiety. "Please.”
Heather shifts, shooting Micah a frustrated look, but she doesn’t stop him. She just leans into his side a little harder. I know she’s angry with him, too. He’s kept us in the dark just as much as Jude has. It’s felt like a betrayal, considering I’ve wanted to help him since the beginning. So I have to know whythisreality was more of an option than just doing something to save him before.
"Well, you know that Jude has killed people for Nolan," he starts, his voice a mere whisper as he glances around our room.
I nod, and Heather's face twists.
Micah swallows. “He's been killing for someoneotherthan Nolan. His name’s Alexei.”
I blink at him. Once. Twice. “What do you mean,killing?He didn't stop after Portland? How—”
Micah looks up at me then, and the guilt in his eyes is immediate and brutal. “That guy who came to the house,” he says. “When you thought it was the pizza delivery. Remember that?”
My stomach drops. I do. I remember how weird they both acted, and how intense that man was.
“That was Alexei.”
The room tilts slightly, and I have I grip the edge of the hospital bed.
“He’s a Russian crime lord,” Micah continues. “And he’s…bad, Emma. Worse than Nolan.Wayworse. He’s essentially forced Jude to be his attack dog. He knows all about the blackmail that Nolan has on him, and saw an opportunity.”
My vision blurs, tears flooding without warning. “He didn’t tell me,” I whisper, more to myself than them.“Youdidn’t tell me.” Istare at him, suddenly clenching my fists. "Micah, why the fuck didn't you tell me?"
He flinches. "I know," he says, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry, Emma. He didn’t want you to know. He held onto you until he literally couldn’t anymore. It broke him to do what he did. Please know that.”
Heather finally speaks, her tone sharp. “What a fucking asshole.Bothof you.” She glares at him, and for a moment, I see the anger she’s been trying to keep at bay for my sake.
Micah nods, shame etched into every line of his face. “I don’t know what to do. When he left with them, they told me that if I told anyone,” he says quietly, “they’d kill him.”
