Page 60 of Meet Me In The Dark (Skeptically In Love #3)

Julian

Her hand is small and slack in mine, but I still have my fingers wrapped around it.

I’m not even sure if she can feel it.

I can.

When they wheeled her away earlier, I just stood there. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe right. My chest felt like it might split open, but all I could do was replay every worst-case scenario until I was half-convinced I’d never see her again.

By the time they brought her back, I’d run through every way I could lose her. I’m still not sure I’ve stopped.

She hasn’t moved since they settled her.

Part of me wants to shake her awake just to hear her voice, to see her eyes open, and know she’s still here. The other part of me wants her to stay under so she doesn’t have to feel any of the pain that’s waiting for her.

I’m not sure which urge is stronger.

Somewhere to my right, I hear a wet sniffle.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Madi, why are you crying?” My voice is quiet, but not exactly gentle.

“Because she just had her entire womb ripped out of her body, Julian,” Madison says, her voice wobbling.

I let go of Celeste’s hand long enough to stand. “Jesus. Come here. You too, Emmy.”

“I’m fine,” Emmy says, which is bullshit because she sounds like someone’s holding her together with duct tape.

I sigh. “For fuck’s sake, both of you come here, before you scare the other patients.”

They both curl under my arms and fucking sob into my chest.

“She’s going to be fine,” I tell them, trying to reassure all three of us at once.

“No, Julian,” Madison says, “she’s going to be menopausal.”

“We know that already—”

“It’s so unfair,” Emmy interrupts, voice thick. “We were supposed to be menopausal together. Like The Golden Girls , but hotter.”

“Yeah,” Madison jumps in. “And now when we’re hanging out of a window in our underwear trying to stop a hot flash, she’ll be free as a bird in your sex dungeon.”

“It’s not a sex dungeon,” I say flatly .

“Oh, right, sorry,” Madison says. “Sex lair. My bad.”

“Sex lair?” Emmy laughs through her tears. “That sounds like it has a moat.”

I’m quiet for a beat before a low chuckle slips out.

“I want to call it a sex cave,” Celeste croaks from the bed. “Not a dungeon. Or a lair.”

Three heads snap toward her.

“Celeste!” Madison and Emmy squeal in unison, rushing to her bedside.

I move in close enough to see her properly. Relief punches the air out of me when her eyes meet mine. “You’re awake.”

“Unfortunately,” she rasps. “I was having a nice dream. You were shirtless. It was perfect.”

Madison smirks. “Yup. She’s fine.”

“Totally fine,” Emmy agrees, wiping her cheeks. “Can I just say, I’ve never been more jealous of someone’s post-op drugs? You’re glowing.”

I take her hand again, because now that she’s conscious, I’m not letting go for anything.

Madison tilts her head at her like she’s an exhibit. “So… how’s the menopause going?”

Celeste squints. “I literally just woke up from surgery.”

“Yeah, but like, can you feel it yet?”

I groan and tip my head back toward the ceiling. “Why did I let you two in here?”

Emmy pats her foot. “Don’t listen to him. We’ve already decided we’re throwing you a menopause party.”

Madison nods solemnly. “It’s like a baby shower, but instead of diapers and onesies, you get wine, heating pads, and a fan.”

“Yeah,” Emmy adds, “and you can wear white pants every single day without fear.”

Celeste blinks at them, then looks at me. “These are my people.”

My lips twitch into a smile. “God help me, I know.”

I bring her hand to my lips and press a slow kiss into her palm. She still smells faintly of antiseptic and hospital sheets, and I hate it.

On her other side, Madison and Emmy both grab her free hand.

“We’re going to get something to eat,” Madison says, glancing between us.

“But we’ll be back,” Emmy adds quickly, like she thinks I might bolt with her.

“Thanks,” Celeste says. “For being here.”

They nod, then they’re gone in a flurry of whispers.

She turns her head toward me, eyelids already starting to drop.

“Hi,” she whispers.

“Hi, baby.”

Her thumb brushes the crease between my brows. “You look worried.”

“You were unconscious and out of my sight for hours.” It’s the cleanest version I can give her. The truth is, I couldn’t fucking breathe until I saw her again.

Her eyes well up. I brush away the tear that slips free. “Not you too.”

“I have an excuse. I’m menopausal.”

That earns me a laugh, and I lean in to kiss the rest of the tears from her cheeks.

My lips linger against her temple, and I’m not sure if I’m trying to keep her awake or ease her back under.

“Celeste?”

“Hm?”

“I know you’re tired,” I say, my thumb brushing slow circles over the back of her hand, “but if you see a white light when you fall asleep… don’t go to it.”

She tries to laugh, but I keep my eyes locked on hers.

“Come back to me, baby.”

“I will.”

I lean closer, so the next words are only for her. “Meet me in the dark, Celeste. Every time. That’s where I’ll be.”

Her lashes lower, and the pull of sleep wins.

I press my lips to her forehead. “I’ve got you.”

And I keep my hand exactly where it is.