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And then she was gone. He could feel she'd left. He was alone again. Just him. No one there. Phoebe!

She didn't answer.

Phoebe!

Again, no answer. Panic began to beat at him. He didn't want to lose her. He didn't want to be alone. He'd been alone his whole fucking life, and he didn't want to be alone anymore. Phoebe! He screamed her name, in his mind, fighting for words, for voice.

"Jacob." Lucas's voice penetrated his fog. "It's me. Phoebe's not here. But she loves you. She needs you. She and that cute kid of hers. We all need you. And you have a chance for love. You owe yourself to go get it."

Go get it.

Go get it.

Go get it.

Fierce, fresh, brand-new determination surged to life inside Jacob. A will to live like he'd never had before. A commitment to life.

He was getting it.

* * *

Phoebe stood outside Jacob's hospital room door, taking a moment to prepare herself. She'd been warned by the other Harts that he was in rough shape, and she needed to be ready. He needed someone strong, not someone to fall apart at the sight of him.

He was going to be okay. Surgery had gone well, and he was going to be all right.

That was what mattered.

But even still, tears were swimming in her eyes as she pushed the door open and slipped inside. She caught her breath when she saw him in the bed, hooked up to beeping machines, his head turned to the side as he slept.

He looked so human in that bed, so vulnerable.

She set her purse down on a chair, then walked over and slid into the seat by his side. She slipped her hands around his, but the moment she touched him, his eyes opened.

His gaze met hers, and she caught her breath. "Hi," she whispered.

He smiled, a sweet, heart-melting smile so full of tenderness and love. "I heard you," he said.

"Heard me when?"

"You told me you loved me."

"You heard that?" she whispered, both surprised and not surprised that the words she'd whispered in the cave had made it to him.

"Yeah." He squeezed her hand lightly as if it was all the strength he could muster. "I love you, too, Phoebe. You and Annie and Cupcake. I'm not letting you go."

The tears she'd been fighting back trickled free. "I don't want to go."

He nodded. "All right." He closed his eyes. "We can build a bigger house. Find a school for Annie."

"You want us to move in with you?"

"Yeah." He opened his eyes again briefly. "I'm going to propose, but not right now. Gotta be a better story than this when people ask how I did it."

Her heart tightened. "I don't need a better story, Jacob. It's not about the story. It's about you. And me. And Annie."

His eyes closed again, but he managed a half smile. "I'm not proposing to you while I'm on drugs and almost dead."

She laughed. "It's actually a great story if you think about it."