For Elle, for me. For Colt.
He sets the food down on the tray table with careful movements that aren’t actually careful at all because his hands are shaking so hard.
“Hey,” I whisper.
He exhales a laugh that sounds wrecked around the edges and drags a hand over his face. “Jesus Christ.”
“Evan—”
“I thought she was gonna be scared of you.” His voice breaks halfway through the sentence. “And I hated that. I hated that she even had to walk in here and see you like this.”
“She wasn’t scared.”
“I know.” He nods, eyes glossy. “I know, I just—” His throat works roughly. “Fuck, Pen.”
He turns away from me for a second, bracing both hands against his hips, trying to steady himself, and I realize with sudden clarity that this man hasn’t actually fallen apart yet.
He’s been functioning on pure adrenaline and terror and grief for God knows how long.
“Come here,” I whisper.
He turns back to me, and I shift carefully against the mattress, making space beside me despite the ache pulling through my ribs. “Please.”
His expression folds completely at that, and he crosses the room in three quick steps, sitting down gently on the edge of the bed. But the second my hand touches his arm, it’s over, and he moves in beside me.
One arm slides around my waist, and he presses his face into the side of my neck.
Then he breaks.
The sound that leaves him is a quiet sob, his whole body shaking beneath my hands before he buries it down hard, like he’s ashamed of it.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, fingers sliding into his hair.
His grip tightens around me almost painfully, forehead sliding beneath my chin while his breathing turns rough and uneven against my skin.
“I really thought I’d lost you,” he chokes out. “When I couldn’t find you in there—fuck—I thought—”
His voice splinters completely, and I hold him tighter despite the pain pulling through my chest.
“You found me,” I remind him shakily.
He lifts his head to mine then, and he’s raw—completely stripped bare.
“I can handle a lot of things, Penny,” he says hoarsely. “But there are two girls in this world that I—” He cuts himself off and his eyes close briefly. “That I can’t handle anything happening to. And you’re one of them.”
His hand slides up into my hair, trembling slightly as he looks at me.
“I can’t do this without you now,” he admits. “I don’t even know when that happened, but I fucking can’t.”
Tears spill down my cheeks before I can stop them, and he wipes one away immediately with his thumb. Then he pulls me against him carefully, holding me like I’m glass, while his breathing slowly steadies against my hair.
And for the first time since waking up in this hospital room, I let myself melt into his arms instead of trying to survive inside my own head.
Chapter twenty-seven
Laughing hardest out of everyone
Evan
