I wanted him to choose me.
Even now.
Even with Georgia’s ring flashing in my memory.
Even with all my fear of becoming the villain.
Even knowing that another woman loved him and had sat beside his bed with the right to cry openly.
I wanted Dylan to wake up fully, look at his life, and decide the truth was worth the wreckage.
Then I hated myself for wanting it.
Lily pulled back enough to look at me.
“You’re allowed to want things you don’t act on.”
I wiped my cheeks. “That sounds like something a therapist would say.”
“It was on a mug in the residents’ lounge.”
“Still counts.”
“Yes.”
A knock sounded at the supply room door.
We both jumped.
The charge nurse cracked it open. “Rourke, you okay?”
I straightened instantly. “Yes.”
Lily made a noise.
The charge nurse looked between us with the tired eyes of a woman who had seen every possible flavor of not okay and did not have time to force honesty out of either of us.
“Take ten,” she said. “Then I need you in Six.”
“On it.”
When the door shut, Lily gave me one last hard look.
“Ten minutes,” she said.
“I know.”
“And you eat something.”
“Bossy.”
“Correct.”
She opened the door, then paused. “Des?”
I looked at her.
“For what it’s worth, not going into his room tonight doesn’t mean you’re giving him up. It means you’re giving yourself back.”
