Connor was still beside me, propped against the headboard, one arm stretched out where I’d been pressed into him for most of the night, his other hand resting loosely at my waist. He hadn’t changed properly, his clothes rumpled, hair a mess and face drawn with exhaustion he hadn’t tried to hide. The sight of him still here was heavier than I expected, because it was proof of something I hadn’t dared to rely on. I couldn’t bring myself to ignore where this was heading, and I didn’t have the energy to face the part where it ended.
“You stayed,” I said, my voice groggy from sleep.
His eyes opened immediately, clear and alert despite the way his body looked like it had taken a hit. “Yeah,” he said, voice rough with sleepiness. “I said I would.”
I swallowed and shifted carefully, my limbs protesting like they’d been filled with sand. My phone rested on the nightstand where I’d dropped it hours ago, screen dark, quiet in a way that felt cruel. I reached for it anyway, because some part of me still believed that if I didn’t check, I’d be missing the moment when everything changed.
“It was buzzing a lot while you slept. I made sure to check, but I didn’t read anything,” he said, pressing his lips softly to my shoulder. The touch traveled into my chest and squeezed, much like the sentiment of him being here, checking, caring about me.
No missed calls. No messages from numbers I didn’t recognize. Just the team chat lighting up with concern and love and promises that they were here whenever I needed them. I wasn’t ready to open any of it yet. Seeing their words would make this real in a way I wasn’t ready for.
I opened my mouth to ask if he wanted coffee when there was a knock at my door.
Connor shifted beside me, a subtle change in his weight, like he was preparing to stand, and I caught his wrist without looking, my fingers closing around it once before I pushed myself upright instead. “I’ll go, you stay.”
The room swayed as I crossed it, my body protesting the effort, and when I opened the door, Natalie was already stepping forward. She didn’t ask how I was. Didn’t pause to read my face. One look at me was all it took before she pulled me into her arms. Her familiar scent of roses wrapped around me, whispering that I was safe.
I broke again. Hot tears tore from my hoarse throat as she held me through it, closing the door at some point, but she never let me go once.
“I came as soon as Micah called,” Natalie said, brushing her hand over my hair. “I brought coffee. And food. And I don’t care if you don’t touch any of it.”
I managed to stop crying, and she pulled back just enough to look at me properly, her hands framing my face as her eyes searched for damage she couldn’t fix. “My girl,” she whispered.
Then her gaze shifted past me.
Connor had joined us, uncertainty flickering across his face as he took in the scene he’d just walked into.
Natalie looked between us, the picture forming quickly and without judgment. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Natalie.”
She extended her hand, and Connor took it with a soft smile. “Connor.”
And as though I’d been passed the talking stick at camp, I knew I had to say something, but the words that erupted from my mouth made absolutely no sense. “He’s… We’re… It’s…”
“If this man was with you last night,” she said, turning her attention fully to me now, “then I want to thank him.”
Connor blinked, the evidence of him staying awake for most of last night in the shadows under his eyes. And his shirt was inside out. He was as much of a mess as me.
“Because when things fall apart like this, you find out very quickly who shows up. And she needs people who show up.” She pinned him with a look, and he nodded. “So thank you, Connor.”
He straightened, and the corners of his eyes creased. “There’s nowhere else I’d be.”
Everything in my reality felt fragile, and yet here was this man being anything but. I wanted to lean into it, but I didn’t want to know what it felt like when he’d leave.
“Well,” she said briskly, clapping her hands together in a way that felt intentional, “we’re not standing around starving.”
She moved past us and into the kitchen, pulling containers from her bag and setting them out without asking whereanything went. Coffee came first. Always coffee. The smell alone made my stomach ache with hunger I hadn’t realized was there.
“Sit,” she told me, pointing to the chair.
Connor gestured toward the bathroom. “I’m going to grab a shower. I won’t be long.”
I nodded, watching him disappear down the hall, and only then did I realize how aware I’d been of him since waking up, like my body had been tracking his presence even when my mind was elsewhere.
Natalie waited until the water started running before she spoke.
“So…” she said carefully, not looking at me as she cut fruit at the counter. “Tell me about him.”
I huffed out something that might’ve been a laugh. “Are you making me mango and kiwi?”
