Jax looked up—eyes widening, face paling like he’d seen a ghost.
“Aria?”
She stepped inside, closed the door softly behind her. “I went to the house. The neighbour—Mrs. Davies?—recognized me. Told me where to find you.”
He stared—silent, unblinking—like he couldn’t believe she was real.
She took a step closer, then stopped. The air between them felt thick, charged, full of all the things they hadn’t said.
They stared at each other—seconds stretching, neither moving, neither speaking. His eyes searched her face—confused, hurt, something raw and vulnerable flickering behind the exhaustion. She wanted to say everything:I’m sorry.I didn’t go back to Min-Jae.I’ve missed you.I love you.
But the words stuck.
A soft rustle from the bed interrupted them.
Nan stirred—eyes fluttering open, focusing slowly. Then widening when she saw Aria.
“Aria?” Her voice was weak, barely above a whisper, but the smile that spread across her face was real—warm, genuine, lighting up her tired features like Christmas morning.
Aria moved to the bed—kneeling beside it, taking Nan’s hand gently. It was cold, thin, but the squeeze was there—weak but insistent.
“Hi, Evelyn,” she said, voice shaking. “It’s good to see you.”
Nan’s eyes shone—tears gathering at the corners. “Lovely girl. Wondered when we’d see you again. Jax has been moping around the house. Hoped you’d come brighten him up.”
Jax made a small sound—half laugh, half choke—from the chair.
Nan turned her head slowly, looked at him. “You didn’t tell me she was coming.”
He shook his head—throat working. “I didn’t know.”
Nan’s gaze flicked between them—knowing, sharp despite the fatigue. “Well, she’s here now. Take this guy out, love. Get him to eat. He hasn’t been looking after himself. Thinks I don’t notice, but he’s skin and bones. Skipping meals, up all night pacing. Barely sleeps. Stubborn as his granddad. Won’t listen to me.”
Aria glanced at Jax. He looked away—jaw tight, embarrassed.
“I will,” she said softly.
Nan squeezed Aria’s hand again—weak but determined. “He needs you. He’s been brave for me, but he’s carrying too much alone. Bring him back to life, love. He deserves it.”
Aria’s throat closed—tears pricking. “I’m here now.”
Nan smiled—small, tired, but real. “Good girl. Now go on. I need a nap anyway. Come back tomorrow. Bring scones. The ones here are rubbish.”
Aria leaned in, pressed a soft kiss to Nan’s forehead—skin cool, fragile. “I will. Sleep well, Evelyn.”
Nan’s eyes closed—breath evening out.
Aria stood, looked at Jax.
He was watching her—face unreadable, but the exhaustion was etched deep, the grief raw.
“Let’s get you some food,” she said quietly.
He nodded—silent, broken—and followed her out the door.
The hallway was empty. Their footsteps echoed softly.
Neither of them spoke.
