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My heart squeezes with emotion. Without thinking, I inch closer.

Alexei immediately opens his arms, careful of my bruises as he gathers me against him. I lean into his chest automatically, listening to the quiet thud of his heartbeat while his hand moves slowly up and down my back.

“You frightened me,” he says after a long moment, pressing a kiss to my hair.

I tilt my head back to look at him.

“You scared me too.”

His jaw flexes. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

The raw honesty in his voice makes it hard to breathe.

I slide my hand against his cheek. “You didn't.”

“No. And I intend to keep it that way,” he says, leaning into my touch.

He presses another kiss to my forehead.

A knock sounds at the bedroom door, and Alexei’s arms loosen around me only enough for me to sit back against the pillows. He doesn’t move far. His hand stays wrapped around mine on top of the blanket, his thumb moving slowly over my knuckles in a motion that feels more like reassurance for himself than for me.

“Come in,” he calls.

Mrs. Bennett enters carrying a tray large enough to feed a football team, and Mama follows right behind her with a tote bag hooked over one arm and a look on her face that says she’s prepared to wage war against anyone who tells her she can’t fuss over me.

The moment they see me sitting up, both women visibly relax.

“Sweetheart,” Mama says, hurrying toward the bed as tears fill her eyes.

Alexei releases my hand only because Mama is already leaning down to wrap me in a careful hug. She smells like coffee, diner soap, and the faint sweetness of whatever pastry she must have baked before coming here, and the simple comfort of it nearly breaks me all over again.

“I’m okay, Mama,” I tell her, though my voice sounds rough and thin.

“You scared ten years off my life.” Mama pulls back enough to cup my face between both hands, her brown eyes moving over me like she can count every bruise and every breath I take. “Don’t you ever do that again.”

“I know,” I whisper.

“No, you don’t,” she says, brushing her thumb beneath my eye. “Because if you knew, you wouldn’t look at me with that sweet little sorry face like I’m not about to fuss anyway.”

Mrs. Bennett sets the tray across my lap with brisk tenderness. “Teresa, she needs to eat before you fuss at her further.”

Mama straightens, wiping beneath one eye with the heel of her hand. “I can fuss and feed at the same time.”

Mrs. Bennett pauses as if considering the logistics of that. “That’s true.”

I look from one woman to the other, then toward Alexei, who has retreated only as far as the edge of the mattress. The amusement on his face tells me he has already accepted his fate, which is wise, because Mama and Mrs. Bennett, united, may be stronger than any security team he’s ever hired.

“Eat,” Mama orders, pointing toward the tray.

“Mama,” I protest, glancing down at the mountain of scrambled eggs, toast, fruit, yogurt, and orange juice in front of me.

“Eat,” she repeats, not budging an inch.

Mrs. Bennett nods in agreement while adjusting the napkin beside the plate. “Your doctor specifically instructed rest, hydration, and proper nutrition.”

I look helplessly toward Alexei, hoping for at least one person in this room to remember I’m a grown woman.

He sides with her so fast it's almost impressive.