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When men had been tearing apart his home.
As they likely threatened him.
Then as they pulled out a gun, threatened to, and then shot him.
Then he’d been there… lying on his side, feeling his own blood drain out of him. Believing no one would come to save him. Knowing that he was all alone in the world.
My heart crumbled in my chest at the way he’d said he had no one. At how he’d tried to assuage my guilt for not saving him while he was actively bleeding out.
He had to live.
I mean I barely knew the guy.
But I was invested in him now.
And there was a chance he wasn’t going to make it.
Who would plan his funeral? Who would come?
If he truly had no family, what happened? Did the city just… bury him? Did they cremate him? Was Kylo religious? Did he have final wishes?
No.
No, damnit.
I wasn’t going to think that way.
He was going to live.
And as soon as I could pull myself together and clean up, I was going to go down to the hospital and check on him.
If he was okay… I was going to… I don’t know. Show him he wasn’t alone.
Because, God, I knew how alone felt.
I don’t think I’d even been really aware of how alone I felt until recently.
Yes, technically, I had a mom. But I was nothing but a disappointment to her. I even had a grandmother, but she was eighty-something and struggling with end-stage dementia.
But I had no one to call and vent to. To share my highs and lows with.
I spent the last two birthdays and Christmases all alone.
I guess Kylo had as well.
I wasn’t going to let him feel all alone while he recovered.
I could get him… flowers. Or one of those edible baskets. Not fruit. He didn’t strike me as a fruit guy. But they did all kinds now. Muffins. Donuts. I mean… who didn’t like donuts?
I was still sniffling as I decided on picking those up.
And it was right then that I heard it.
A knock.
My heart soared up into my throat, cutting off my air supply as my gaze shot in that direction.
I had been too out of it to slide my locks.
