Page 48

The hospital lights dimmed slightly as the evening settled outside the windows, gray and quiet, as if the sky itself was holding its breath. The machines beside Sloane murmured on, steady, rhythmic, cruel in their patience.

Then, the smallest movement. Her fingers twitched.

I jolted upright and leaned closer, unsure if I imagined it. But then her eyelids fluttered, slow and heavy, as if waking cost her more than she had left to give.

“Sloane?” My voice cracked.

Her eyes opened, bloodshot and glazed with confusion. She blinked at the ceiling, then turned her head slightly toward the sound of my voice. Her lips parted, dry and trembling.

“Levi?” she whispered.

A sound left me, part sob, part prayer. I pressed her hand tighter. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

She blinked again, eyes focusing now, face flinching as the pain set in. Her free hand drifted to her stomach, instinctively. I didn’t stop her.

“The baby?” she asked, voice brittle as glass .

“They said everything’s stable,” I said gently. “They’re monitoring. You’re okay. You’re both okay.”

A long silence passed between us, broken only by the quiet hum of the IV pump. And then, her eyes filled, not just with pain, but something else. A terrible, heartbreaking tenderness.

“I thought she was going to kill me,” Sloane said, her voice barely audible. “I looked in her eyes, and there was nothing there. Like she was empty.”

My heart twisted, every muscle in my body screaming for revenge I couldn't act on.

“I am so sorry,” I whispered, resting my forehead on the back of her hand. “If I hadn’t… if I hadn’t brought her into our lives- ”

“No.” Her voice, despite the circumstances, came out firm.

I looked up at her, startled.

“This is not your fault,” she said slowly, clearly, even as her throat worked to get the words out. “You made a mistake. A terrible one. And I hated you for it. But this ... what she did... this is on her. Not you.”

Tears slipped down my cheeks. I shook my head. “You don’t have to say that,” I rasped. “You don’t have to make me feel better.”

“I’m not,” she said, her fingers squeezing mine this time. “I’m saying it because it’s the truth. I need you to stop carrying every ounce of this pain like it’s your punishment. That doesn’t help me. Or the kids. Or us.”

I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. The knot in my chest twisted tighter, threatening to break me open.

Her eyes softened. “She came at me with a knife,” she added, like she was still processing it out loud. “And I somehow blocked it with the chart I was holding. Whacked her a few good times too.”

My brows lifted. “The patient chart? Like a clipboard? ”

She nodded. “Yep. Smacked her like I was swatting a fly.”

Despite everything, a wet laugh escaped me, half-sob, half-hysterical. “That’s... honestly, kind of badass.”

She winced. “Well, not badass enough. It didn’t stop her from wailing on me with her fists. She acted like I’d insulted her botched boob job.”

Fuck me, how is this woman cracking jokes right now?

“She always had a temper.”

“Mm-hmm,” she said, shaking her head. “If she’d spent half as much time working on her self-control as she did on her eyeliner wings, none of this would’ve happened.”

Another shaky laugh bubbled out of me, and for a moment, the weight in the room felt a little lighter.

"Hell, Sloane," I breathed, rubbing the heels of my hands into my eyes. "How do you do it? Find humor or good in everything?"

I looked at her, bruised, exhausted, her hair a tangled mess, and yet somehow she still managed to carry this impossible grace. I couldn’t stop this pain from spreading, from tightening in my chest like a vice. It was admiration and guilt and awe all tangled together.

She shrugged lightly, though her lips curled into a crooked smile. "Honestly? Because I know good people."

I blinked, unsure how to respond to that.

She tilted her head and said, “Charlie came to my aid, remember? And it's a good thing too, because goddamn, Levi… that woman is freakishly strong Like, Amazon warrior-strong.” Then in a deadpan voice she added, “I’m surprised she didn’t break your dick off. Or Charlie's in our throw down.”

I choked on a half-laugh, half-wheeze. “Fuck, that took a turn. ”

“She was aiming low,” Sloane said, trying and failing to look serious with the wires and bandages. “You should thank your lucky stars she was wearing heels and didn’t have better footwork otherwise Charlie would be suing us for endangerment.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Why? Because I’m not falling apart like you expected me to?”

“No,” I said softly. “Because even after everything… you’re still here. Cracking jokes. Making me laugh. When I least deserve it.”

She looked at me for a long moment, then reached for my hand again. “I’m not laughing for you, Levi. I’m laughing for me. Because if I stop, I’m afraid I might break down all over again."

Tears pricked my eyes. "You can break down Sloane. I'll be your foundation, your rock, and everything I couldn't be before."

“You stayed,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “That’s all I ever wanted, Levi. Not the perfect man. Just one who was honest and would stay when things got ugly or hard.”

I leaned over and kissed her knuckles. My lips trembled against her skin. “I’ll stay forever if you let me.”

Her breathing deepened and she nodded, slow and weary, eyes already beginning to close again.

“Then we start over,” she murmured. “I’m ready.”

“I’ll wait. It's no rush. We have all the time now,” I promised.

And as she drifted back into the heavy haze of exhaustion, I sat there, still holding her hand.