Page 27

stassi

“Can you sit next to me? Kinda like we used to do at your house?” I looked over at the lack of room on the hospital bed and then back at him. “It’s probably too small.”

The corners of his lips turned into a soft smile. “We’ll squeeze. I sat here a few times when you were sleeping, the nurses told me it was okay.”

He walked to the other side of the bed, and I scooted over as far as possible without disturbing the monitors.

As I tried to push myself further, digging my heels into the mattress, I suddenly realized that the sensation in my feet was gone.

I looked down and saw my feet, but my brain wouldn’t register the command to move them.

I tried to wiggle my toes... nothing.

Just as Alex came in next to me, he saw the panic written all over my face. My heart rate quickened as one machine beeped rapidly in the corner of the room.

“What’s happening? I can see my feet, why can’t I move them?” I asked frantically.

Alex looked down at where I was staring and sighed. “Do you remember the accident you were in?”

I nodded. “Dimitri, he was there in the hotel room, and he kept hitting me over...” Realization dawned on me when I realized he was hitting my legs. I sucked in a breath, not wanting to know the truth. “What’s wrong with me?” I asked—no begged.

Alex’s thick fingers came up to my face as he drew small circles on my temple, soothing my dull headache.

“The doctors aren’t sure what’s wrong, but they did surgery to help fix the nerves and fuse them back together.”

“My nerves don’t work?”

He shook his head. “There’s been a lot of lingo going back and forth, and truthfully, I don’t understand all of it, but the short of it is that when he hurt your legs, he really damaged the nerves that connect to the rest of your body.

The doctors think you’ll be able to gain movement in them after the surgery, but it’ll be a long process. ”

“I’m . . . temporarily paralyzed?”

Alex closed his eyes. “Yes, from the knees down at least until you can get the nerves to work again.”

“What if they never regain movement?” Hot tears pricked my cheek.

He reached up, gently caressing each tear as if he was absorbing my pain.

“They will,” he whispered.

“My mom? Damien?” I asked.

Everything bubbled in my chest. I was losing everything I ever had in moments.

“They’re coming in a little bit. Your mom’s visa was extended, so she’ll be able to stay with you for a few more months to help you with your therapy and be a caregiver for Damien.”

“How is he?” I croaked out.

“He’s growing up. He smiles now. He’d come to visit every few days, and I’d put him in your arms, and he’d sit there with you as we talked to you and told you stories.”

I leaned over, my eyes looking into his and let his words really sink in. “Y-You were here the...entire time?”

His hands never left my face, and the wetness on my cheeks only seemed to increase.

His presence, his unwavering support, had been my anchor even when I was adrift in unconsciousness.

Life had worn him down—the dark circles under his eyes and the exhaustion etched into his features were clear signs—but there was also a fierce determination, a protective strength that kept him by my side.

“I couldn’t leave you,” he said softly, his thumb gently wiping away my tears. “Not for a moment. We all needed you to wake up, and I needed to be here when you did.”

I blinked a few times, not sure of how to respond or process what I was feeling. All I knew was it felt consuming—everything was consuming me and threatened to swallow me whole and bring me to the place where I needed to go.

“You have hockey? You’re in the middle of the season,” I said, swallowing down the guilt.

“No. My agent allowed me a reprieve for a month to help you. I go back in a week...” He cleared his throat. “But I can stay while you get back on your feet. I can help you, take off this season?—”

“No.” I interrupted him. “You cannot.”

The guilt that all this was my fault clawed at me, begging to consume me again. I swallowed, trying to push it down.

“I can.” He insisted, his voice filled with assurance.

For a moment, I almost believed him, but it was far from the truth. He’d never play again if he took off the entire season.

“You can’t.” I closed my eyes for a moment before opening them again. “Dimitri?” I asked, both out of curiosity and a desire to shift the topic.

Alex’s expression darkened slightly. “He’s gone. The police have him, and he’s not coming near you or Damien again.”

A wave of relief washed over me, but the guilt still lingered. Alex had already done so much, and the thought of him sacrificing his career for me was unbearable.

“Thank you,” I whispered, the weight of everything pressing down on me. “If I never walk again, how will I raise Damien?” I asked, feeling the darkness creep closer to my body.

Dimitri had always planned to get me alone and then leave me.

But when I was the one who ended things, it triggered something, and he became enraged.

If I had never told him I was leaving, I wouldn’t be in this position now.

I wouldn’t be struggling to care for my infant or fighting for my life in this hospital room.

“This is all my fault.” I hiccupped. “I won’t be able to afford to live without him. I can’t skate again. I can’t work.”

“If you can walk, then maybe you can?—”

“Stop,” I shouted. “Stop!”

I closed my eyes as the darkness wrapped around my broken legs. “I have no fucking skills. I’m a nobody if I’m not skating. He took that away from me.”

My lungs seized as the ache behind my eyes intensified. “He brought a hockey stick, Alex. He took it from his bag and hurt me purposefully.”

I couldn’t breathe. My hands shook, and I swear my legs trembled, even though my nerves were damaged.

“I’m a nobody without skating.”

He gently cupped my face, tilting my chin up to force me to look at him.

His presence was overwhelming, consuming every part of me with its warmth and intensity.

It was as if he filled every empty space inside me, leaving no room for the darkness to creep back in, yet the feelings I had for him were so intense, so all-encompassing, that they threatened to drown me.

“You are not a nobody, Anastasia. You are everything,” he whispered, his breath warm against my lips.

His words broke through the fog of despair, anchoring me in a moment of raw, undeniable connection.

Tears streamed down my face as I whispered back, “I don’t know how to do this without skating. It’s all I’ve ever known.”

“You’ll find a way,” he said, his eyes filled with unwavering conviction. “And you won’t have to do it alone. I’m here, every step of the way.”

He dipped his head down, hovering his mouth above mine.

Then he kissed me, and it felt like the world stopped.

His lips were soft yet firm, moving against mine with a tenderness that made my heart ache.

But as I melted into him, the kiss terrified me.

The intensity of my feelings for him, combined with the overwhelming need to not be fixed by someone else, surged through me.

I didn’t want someone to come in and make everything better.

I needed to prove to myself that I could do it on my own.

Every touch was washing away the pain, yet, at the same time, it stirred a deep-seated fear that I was losing control. He moved his hands to my waist, holding me tightly as if he could shield me from all the hurt and sorrow.

I didn’t want the kiss to end, but I needed him to stop. When we finally pulled apart, breathless and trembling, I looked into his eyes and saw the same emotions mirrored there—love, longing, and a promise of unwavering support.

I lost it. I absolutely lost control. The shock and darkness took over as my heart raced. My head was throbbing, and I sobbed uncontrollably. “You have to leave, Alex. You have to leave,” I cried out, my voice breaking with desperation.

He shook his head, his eyes filled with pain and determination. “No. Not after that. I can’t.”

“Please, Alex.” I pleaded with him, tears streaming down my face. “I need you to leave.”

“I waited so long to do that, Anastasia. Don’t run away. Please, fuck. Don’t run.”

I looked down at my legs, and a sob wracked my entire body. “I can’t be with you. My husband tried to kill me.” I choked on the truth as it left my body.

“I can?—”

I stopped him, holding up my hand, but my heart was racing. “In one night, I lost everything.”

My hands went to my cheek as the machines in my room sounded like I was a damn robot. “I’m married to a man who left me broken and broke. I have a child I have no idea how I’ll physically or financially support. Kissing you?—”

“No.” He insisted. “No. It was perfect. At least don’t take that away from me, Anastasia.”

A tear rolled down Alex’s face, and it shattered something deep inside me.

I felt itchy, desperate to escape my own skin.

But leaving the relationship with a man who had tried to kill me wasn’t something I could just do.

I was a broken butterfly, my wings clipped, and I wanted Alex to let me die on this branch as I was meant to.

“I’m so broken . . .” I whispered.

“Malyshka.” He tried to get closer to me, but I pushed him away.

“No. Please, Alex. Please leave me,” I begged.

“I can’t. I don’t think you understand. I’m unable to leave your side. I failed you so miserably...”

“I wasn’t going to leave him and run into your arms, Alex. I was going to do it for myself.”

“I know.” He dropped to the ground and fell to his knees so he was facing me.

He reached for my hand, but I pulled away and looked out the window.

I wanted to escape from the suffocating torment.

“You should leave,” my mother’s familiar voice demanded from the doorway.

Seeing the car seat that she was swinging, I broke down, trembling, letting the tears flow like a river from my eyes.