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I fold my arms across my chest. “If the doctor tells me you’re fine, then you’re fine.”

Her mouth falls open. Then she crosses her arms tightly over her chest, glaring at me with enough force to scorch the walls.

The doctor clears his throat awkwardly before beginning his examination. While he checks her pulse and blood pressure, I can’t stay still.

I pace from one end of the room to the other, every few seconds glancing back to make sure she’s still sitting there. My heart refuses to settle. Every time I blink, I imagine how differently tonight could have ended.

Several long minutes pass before the doctor finally straightens. He offers me a reassuring smile.

“She’s perfectly fine, Mr. Sokolov. Her blood pressure is normal, her pupils are responsive, and I don’t see any injuries or signs of trauma. Aside from understandably being shaken, she’s in excellent condition.”

For the first time since the shooting, I breathe. The tightness crushing my chest finally eases, and a long, shaky breath escapes me before I even realize I’ve been holding it.

I dismiss the doctor with a curt nod. Only when he’s gone do I finally turn back toward Aurora.

She’s still sitting on the sofa, her arms folded tightly across her chest. The irritation in her eyes hasn’t faded in the slightest.

She arches a brow. “Well?” she asks. “Are you satisfied now? Do you finally believe I’m fine?”

I study her for a long moment. The doctor says she’s unharmed, but that doesn’t erase the image of her throwing herself in front of me. It doesn’t erase the fact that tonight could have ended with me carrying her lifeless body instead of bringing her home.

“Go upstairs,” I say quietly. “You’re exhausted. You need to rest.”

She lets out a humorless laugh. “There you go again.”

I frown. “There I go doing what?”

“Telling me what to do, then just walking away. Refusing to talk, refusing to communicate.”

She rises from the sofa and squares her shoulders.

“I’m not a child, Roman. If I’m tired, I’ll go to bed. If I want to sleep, I’ll sleep. You don’t need to order me around as though I’m incapable of making decisions for myself.”

A dull ache settles behind my eyes. “I don’t have time for this tonight.”

Her jaw drops. “What?”

“Go get some sleep. I need some time alone.”

Without waiting for a response, I turn and walk away.

“Roman!”

I keep moving.

Her footsteps echo behind me. “Where are you going?”

I don’t answer. Needing to quiet the noise in my head, I go over to the private wing of the estate.

The moment I step inside, the familiar scent of rubber mats, steel, and leather greets me.

I strip off my jacket, loosen my tie, and toss both aside. A few moments later, I’m dressed in training shorts and wraps, already standing before the heavy bag.

Hours later, sweat pours down my back as the music blares through hidden speakers, loud enough to shake the walls.

I increase the weight. Increase the reps. Push harder. Every strike is meant to silence the memories. Aurora throwing herself in front of me. Aurora risking everything for me.

None of it leaves. Instead, the images grow sharper. What if the bullet had found her? What if bringing her into my life was the worst mistake I’ve ever made?