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“Room nine.”
The room was glass. The door was open.
She hovered at the corner of the glass panel, her palm pressed there. His curls were gone. One side of his head was shaved, but otherwise he was pristine.
On the outside.
What was going on inside his head?
Was it similar to hers when she’d still been gone?
Or was he dreaming of Nic?
Dreaming of the children they’d been trying to conceive?
She closed her eyes against the wash of tears that dripped down her cheeks and the harsh sob that seemed to be on the fringes of everything she did.
“How dare you.”
Logan stepped in front of her. “Mrs. Wolfe, we just wanted to—”
“You don’t get to be here. You are the reason he’s in there.” Lydia advanced out into the hall. Her grief-stricken eyes were wild.
Bella lifted her chin and stepped out of Logan’s shadow. She swiped her tears away. She tried to grasp the words pinging around in her brain.
I’m sorry.
It’s my fault.
I would trade places with either of them, I promise.
She could only shake her head.
“Mrs. Wolfe, she just wanted to see him before we left.”
Lydia raised her hand as anger and hate lashed through her. Logan took the blow. The slap echoed in the hall and nurses came running.
Bella stumbled back and her ribs took the edge of the windowed enclosure. She went down on her knees as white-hot pain melted into black spots.
Logan shook his head and spun in a crouch, his arms hovering around her, but not touching her.
The shuddering cry mixed with the sob sitting on her chest.
She wanted to lean on him.
He was there—so big and so strong.
But she didn’t let herself.
She took the pain.
Shook through the pain.
The nurses led Lydia out of the hallway. She was crying hysterically, demanding that they leave.
Bella sobbed because she couldn’t stop it.
Logan didn’t move.
