Kai sat propped up against a mountain of pillows, looking far too pleased with himself for a man who had been knocking on death’s door only days earlier.
"Open up," Jessica said, holding the spoon toward him. "Co on."
Kai grinned, deliberately turning his head at the last second so the spoon missed. "Only if you say please, my future wife."
Jessica narrowed her eyes, though the corners of her mouth twitched. "I will drop this porridge on your head, Kai. Don’t test ."
"Oh no, I’m terrified," he teased, batting his lashes dramatically. "My big, scary soul bond is threatening with breakfast. Whatever shall I do?" He scrunched his nose. "You can’t even be romantic for once. You’re supposed to kiss with each spoon I eat."
She huffed and tried again, but he dodged once more, nearly sending the spoon flying. "You are impossible. I see you don’t even want to be fed. So, eat it yourself."
"No, no." He opened his mouth again imdiately, all innocence. "Carry on. I’m far too weak. I might drop the spoon and injure myself further, and then where would we be?"
Jessica rolled her eyes but loaded the spoon again. "I sat here for hours thinking you might die, and now you’re playing gas?"
Kai’s expression softened for a second, but the mischief quickly returned. "Exactly. I survived, so now I deserve special treatnt. Starting with you feeding while calling your handso husband."
Jessica rolled her eyes so hard it was a wonder they did not get stuck. "Handso? You look like you lost a fight with a pillow. Eat properly or I’m leaving."
Kai clutched his chest in mock horror. "You would abandon your poor, recovering husband? After all those heartfelt speeches while I was unconscious? I heard every word, you know. Especially the part where you promised not to push away anymore."
Jessica’s cheeks flushed bright red. She let out a deep sigh. "I’m leaving now."
"Ah. Ow," Kai suddenly cried, both hands flying up to clutch his head.
Jessica imdiately dropped the spoon back into the bowl, concern flashing across her face. "What’s wrong?" She set the bowl down hard on the bedside table.
"Actually... it hurts now. Right here." He pointed to his head.
She was already on her feet, leaning over him, her hands hovering over his head. "Is it your head? Where does it hurt?"
"Here," Kai said weakly, pointing to his forehead.
Jessica leaned in close, squinting at the spot, far too concerned to notice how near her face had drifted to his. "Here? Did you knock it? Should I call Dr Lorenzo—"
"No, wait." Kai moved his finger, sliding it down to his cheek. "Here. It hurts here."
She leaned in closer still, brow furrowed, scanning his cheek for so injury she could not see. "I don’t understand, there’s nothing there, where exactly—"
Kai’s finger moved one final ti, settling on his own lips with a cheeky grin. "Here.’
Jessica’s brow creased. And then, far too late, understanding dawned across her face. "You sneaky little—"
Kai did not let her finish. He leaned up and pressed a kiss squarely to her lips.
Jessica froze completely, eyes wide.
Kai sank back into his pillows, thoroughly satisfied, and had the absolute nerve to wink at her.
She stayed exactly where she was for a mont, one hand drifting up to touch her own lips, a wave of tingles rushing the whole length of her body and pooling sowhere in her stomach. Then her brain caught up with the rest of her.
She smacked him on the shoulder.
"Ow!" Kai yelped, clutching the spot with deep dramatic betrayal. "Why would you hit a dying man?"
"You’re not dying, you absolute fraud! Why would you trick like that?"
"I’m sick," he protested, pouting. "Critically. You’re ant to be nice to . Hitting the wounded is a very poor bedside manner, wifey. I expected better."
Jessica glared at him and made to drop back into her chair, putting so safe distance between them. But but Kai grabbed her hand and tugged her gently onto the bed beside him. Before she could protest, he leaned in and kissed her again, slower this ti.
And Jessica could only sit there, frozen all over again, her heart slamming against her ribs.
When Kai pulled back, he gave a low, contented chuckle. Then, he pulled her into him, and wrapped both arms around her and drew her in against him, holding her tightly, his face tucked into her hair.
"Let’s just stay like this," he mumbled. "For a bit. It makes hurt less."
Jessica was stunned for a few seconds, but warm butterflies fluttered wildly in her stomach. A shy smile spread across her face as she slowly wrapped her arms around him, holding him close and sinking into the warmth of him.
Just then, the door burst open.
"Kai, dear!" Angelica’s voice rang out as she swept into the room, towing a stunning blonde girl along behind her. "Look who’s co all this way to see you!"
***
anwhile, sowhere in the world, Brian sat alone in his parked car, in the woods, his father’s voice crackling through the speakers.
"Where in the goddess’s na are you, Brian?" Crane snapped. "Do you know Derek has n out looking for you? Tearing the place apart? What did you do, you fool?"
Brian said nothing.
"Are you listening to , boy? Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare ruin this for , not when we’re this close." Crane’s voice climbed, tight and furious.
"Have you sent the girl the ssage yet? Tell you’ve at least managed that much."
Brian was not listening.
His eyes were fixed across the street, on a small, modest house with a tidy little backyard. A middle-aged woman stood out there in the late morning light, threading strips of at onto skewers, her movents slow and entirely at peace.
She had no idea she was being watched. She humd sothing to herself, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face with the back of her wrist.
Brian watched her, and the whole world narrowed down to that one woman and that quiet, ordinary little yard. His father’s voice beca a distant, aningless buzz.
"Brian. Brian!"
The bark of his own na dragged him halfway back. He blinked, and only then realised his eyes had filled with tears. He sighed and without a single word to his father, he reached out and ended the call.
The car went silent.
For a long mont, he just sat there. Then he opened the door, climbed out, and reached into the back seat for the bunch of flowers lying across it.
He shut the car door softly, walked out of the woods and crossed the street toward the house, his steps slowing as he drew nearer, as though so part of him was afraid to arrive.
He let himself in through the side gate and walked into the backyard.
The woman did not hear him or catch his scent. She kept right on with her skewers, humming, lost in the small peace of her own morning, until Brian stopped a few feet behind her and cleared his throat.
She turned.
The mont her eyes landed on him, they flew wide. Her gaze darted past him, around the yard, up to the windows of her house, panic flooding her face in an instant.
She set down the skewer in her hand and hurried toward him, wiping her palms hastily on her apron.
Brian smiled at her as she ca.
"Brian," she said, her voice low and frightened. "What are you doing here?"
"Mama," Brian said softly. His smile wavered at the edges. "It’s been a long ti."
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