Page 134 of Bleed with Me

Nothing. No yelling how dare I? No reproach. Just silence.

“Did you hear me?” I asked carefully, running my fingers through his hair.

“I did,” he mumbled.

“And?” My teeth sank into my lower lip while I awaited something, anything. This non-reactive Dorian scared me.

“I’m her boss.” The words were so quiet I barely heard them.

“What?” I glanced into his swollen, bloodshot eyes.

“Technically, I’m Jessica’s boss,” he explained, his sad look searching my face.

“That’s what bothers you?” I blinked in confusion, pondering that maybe he was too tired to have any type of conversation.

“You are my wife, so what else should bother me?” The brief flicker of flirty Dorian I knew so well warmed my chest even more than his words. But the moment was interrupted by a startling, loud yell from a machine beside Malin’s head.

Dorian winced and pushed me off his lap. His gaze jumped between the monitors and numbers as he mumbled something under his breath. Two nurses burst through the door a second later, one of them harshly pushing me out of the room.

I stared at the closed door, my heart violently crashing against my ribcage.

Fuck! What if Malin dies?

-55-

Nina

Malin didn’t die—at least not that night. The next day, I thought his final moments had arrived three different times. On the third, the word coma started floating around. And on the fourth, the multidisciplinary team of doctors met to discuss next steps.

Honestly, they were four of the longest days of my life.

I was never close to Malin. He wasn’t my friend or family. But watching Dorian slowly fall apart almost crushed me. He barely ate, survived on terrible coffee, and refused to leave Malin’s bedside for more than a few minutes at a time.

When he wasn’t staring at the monitors, he was talking to him, telling him stories, arguing with him, begging him to come back. Even Valentina, their mother, took some breaks and went home to rest a little, but not him.

A few times, I had to leave the room because I couldn’t listen anymore. I would’ve done almost anything to wake up that terrifying asshole and end Dorian’s misery.

Unfortunately, not even the best doctors in the country could do much. Malin was stable, but his condition remained critical. The scans showed no brain damage. Everything that could be repaired had been. All that was left was to wait.

And pray.

“Hello,” a thin girl’s voice stirred me from my thoughts as I watched Dorian, Zyon, and their mother talking with doctors through the glass wall. “Are you waiting for him, too?”

“For who?” I asked, staring into the bluest eyes I had ever seen, complemented by the long golden curls and a smile that brought dimples to her cheeks.

“Doctor Dorian,” she replied, sitting beside me. Her teddy bear, almost as big as she was, took the seat on the other side. “He often shows pictures to people in that room.” Her gorgeous smile widened, and she covered her mouth with her hand. “I know because I follow him there sometimes.” A giggle slipped past her lips. “When the nurse who always looks at her phone guards me.”

“Oh.” I smiled, matching her excitement. “So you stalk Doctor Dorian.”

Her eyes widened.

“What does it mean, stalk?” she asked, curiosity written all over her innocent face.

“That you follow someone.” I leaned closer, lowering my voice. “And they don’t know.”

Her mouth formed an O, and she clapped her hands.

“Aaawesome,” she chirped, stealing a peek at the conference room. “That is Zara’s daddy, right?”