I pulled back, wiping my tears. “You scared me. One minute you’re fine, the next you’re unconscious. But… I’m so glad you’re awake. Dorothy said you would wake up. But you took so long.”
His hand cupped my face, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone. I leaned into it, letting out a nervous laugh before pressing against him again.
We stayed like that for a while, my head resting against his shoulder, his warm breath brushing my hair. For a fleeting moment, it felt like enough. Then I pulled back, meeting his eyes. “So, how do you feel?”
He exhaled, eyes scanning the room as if searching for something. “I’m okay.”
Without another word, he swung his legs off the bed.
I shot to my feet. “Where are you going? Bathroom? Should I—”
“We’re leaving.”
I hurried after him, weaving around the bed as he moved toward the closet. Each step he took was slow, as if carrying more weight than he could manage. Every movement was deliberate, and it was clear his body was resisting. “Leave? What do you mean, we are leaving? You need to rest.”
He ignored me, reaching the closet. Before he could open it, I planted my hand against the door, forcing it closed. “Look, I should call Dorothy.”
“I’m fine, Little Gem.” His voice was strained.
“You’re not fine,” I snapped. “For your information, you’ve been unconscious since yesterday.”
His jaw clenched. “Just because you saw me unconscious doesn’t mean I’m going to lie here like some sick person.”
My chest heaved. “If you weren’t sick, you would have shown up on that damn date. So just—”
“Get out of my way.” His words were sharp, but his legs wobbled slightly beneath him, betraying the control he tried to hold.
I stared at him, eyes burning until tears slipped down, anyway. “Fine. Why do I even care? It bothers you when people see you sick. You act like you’re some machine, but you’re not. You’re human, Rodion. And selfish. I sat here, worried, but you—” my voice broke, “but you don’t even care.”
I stepped back to the bed, reaching for my phone to call Dorothy, my hands trembling. He had just snapped, and I didn’t know how else to handle it.
But when I glanced back, Rodion had leaned heavily against the closet, one hand pressed to the wood for support, his head bowed.
“Rodion?”
Panic shot through me, and I rushed to him. His skin was clammy, sweat dampening his temples, eyes heavy as he fought to stay upright.
“Hey, I’ll get you to bed,” I whispered, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.
“I’m fine,” he muttered, gritting his teeth as he forced himself to straighten.
“No, you’re not.” I guided him toward the bed. This time, he didn’t resist. He sank down, rolling his shoulders back with a deep inhale, forcing a smile that fooled neither of us.
My hand trembled as I pressed the emergency bell.
He chuckled under his breath. “I’m fine.”
“Just lie down. Please.” My voice quivered. “The doctor will be here soon,” I whispered, letting my fingers trail over his cheek.
Rodion’s hand shifted, finding mine, pulling me closer. “I shouldn’t be here.”
I shook my head, frustration and fear tightening in my chest. Where the hell were the doctors? “You should. Stop forcing it.”
We stared at each other. His gaze burned into mine, even as his strength wavered. He lifted a hand, brushing the tears from my cheek. His thumb lingered, and the faintest curve touched his lips.
I leaned in, pressing my lips to his. It was desperate, nothing soft. I wanted him to feel me there, to hold on for a moment.
His eyes fluttered shut just as the door burst open. Dorothy rushed in, followed by another doctor. My heart lurched, and I stepped back, a mix of relief and panic coursing through me.