Page 149 of Relapse

Her question stole the air from my lungs.

And it wasn't because I didn’t know the answer to her question. I did.

My first instinct was to deny it—to laugh, to deflect, to find some excuse that made this easier. I had spent so long convincing myself that saying it out loud would never be possible.

I had never allowed myself to say it. Not to Noah. Not to anyone. And certainly not to her—this girl who had inserted herself into Noah’s life and become another obstacle I had to overcome.

Somehow, answering this question was more difficult than the torture I endured. I had faced things that had mentally and physically broken me. Yet, this stupid question…was so much harder to deal with.

But I had told myself that I wasn’t going to hide anymore. Especially after Noah’s sacrifice for me.

“I love him more than anything in this world.”

Something shifted between us then. The look in her eyes told me we had reached an understanding neither of us wanted to admit.

I watched her shoulders slump, the fight draining out of her in a visible rush. She wasn’t just looking at me anymore, the enemy she despised who had been sleeping with the guy she adored. She was seeing another person who loved Noah as fiercely as she did.

For a split second, we shared something that made us equals. And I couldn’t tell if I sympathized with her more, or hated her more because of it.

“Code blue, room 305. Code blue, room 305.”

My eyes shot upwards, to the little intercom on the ceiling. The words crackled overhead, and within seconds a thunder of sounds filled the hallway outside my room. Dropped clipboards, footsteps of nurses hitting the linoleum hard, shouting. I turned back to Delane and our eyes locked across the room—hers wide with the same dread that swelled in my chest. In that fraction of a second, another truth passed between us, unspoken but deafening.

We didn’t need words. We both knew.

Noah. That was Noah’s room just called over the intercom.

And in that terrible, suspended moment, we were somehow no longer strangers, no longer enemies. We were bound together. I could see my own fear reflected in her glistening eyes, and she saw hers in mine, and we understood with sickening clarity: we were both about to lose the man we loved.

I started ripping the monitors from my body, tearing away every wire that tethered me to the walls. “Help me up,” I croaked, slamming my fist against the guard rails.

I looked back at Delane, desperation clawing at my throat. Admitting it stung like salt in an open wound, but I needed her. One working arm and a body full of fractured bones meant I wasn’t getting to Noah alone.

She stood frozen, her eyes darting between me and the door.

She could have walked away. Should have.

Instead, she shrieked, “Hurry up,” and rushed to my bedside, hauling me upright. Fire shot through my ribs as I draped my bad arm over her shoulder. I grabbed the IV pole with my free hand and yanked until the wheels rattled loose and rolled alongside us.

We stumbled through the doorway into chaos.

A nurse tore past us down the hallway, hair spilling from her bun, her voice urgent. “Narcan! Narcan coming in!”

Delane didn’t slow down to let me find my footing. She was practically dragging me now, and I had no choice but to follow her lead. She knew where she was taking us.

“What the fuck is Narcan?” she asked between breaths.

The word sent my stomach dropping into a pit. “Drugs,” I managed. “Noah... it means…”

“Spit it out,” she growled.

“It means he overdosed. He’s not breathing.”

Delane stopped dead in her tracks and spun toward me. The look in her eyes—fury and terror combined—was one I wouldn’t soon forget.

“How the hell did that happen here? In a hospital?”

It was a valid question. But before I could answer, Damian rounded the corner. He barely registered us, diving around our slow-moving bodies with the precision of an athlete clearing hurdles. I followed his trajectory and saw it: Room 305. Had to be. From the cluster of bodies swarming outside, this was where I needed to go.