When Ella woke again, the lights were dimr. The sharp, sterile brightness of the ER was gone, replaced by soft lamplight and shadows stretched long against the private suite’s walls.
Nicholas was still there.
She wasn’t sure he’d moved at all.
His chair was pulled close to the bed, one of his hands resting loosely in hers, his other elbow propped on the mattress, his fingers threaded into his own hair as if trying to keep himself anchored. His eyes were closed, lashes dark against his skin, his jaw slack with exhaustion. But his hand on hers remained steady, like part of him refused to fall asleep completely.
Ella blinked, her throat dry.
"Nicholas," she whispered.
His eyes snapped open imdiately. There was no disorientation, no mont of groggy confusion—just sharp, instant awareness. His gaze locked onto her like she was the only thing in the world.
"Hey, baby." His voice was soft, hoarse. "I’m right here."
Her lips curved weakly. "You’re still here?"
"I’m not going anywhere." His thumb rubbed circles on the back of her hand, his eyes searching her face. "How’re you feeling?"
She tried to swallow, her mouth sticky. "Thirsty."
Nicholas was already moving. He stood and poured her a glass of water from the pitcher on the side table, his movents quick but careful. He added ice. Found a straw.
When he brought the cup to her lips, his free hand brushed a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear with the gentleness of soone handling fragile glass.
"Small sips," he whispered.
Ella drank slowly, her lips trembling against the straw. The coolness soothed her throat, and when she finished, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
"Thank you."
Nicholas set the glass aside and brushed his fingers softly along her cheek. "Always."
Her gaze drifted over him, taking him in.
His shirt was rumpled, the collar stretched, buttons uneven. His usually polished hair was a ss, his jaw shadowed with stubble he hadn’t bothered to shave. His eyes were rimd red—not just from exhaustion, but from sothing deeper.
"Nicholas," she whispered, her brows pulling together. "You look... awful."
He laughed softly, the sound cracking in his throat. "Good. ans I match how I feel."
Her heart squeezed. "You should rest."
"I’ll rest when you’re ho." He pulled his chair closer again, his knee bumping gently against the mattress. His eyes searched hers, careful, protective, as if he were checking for cracks in glass. "Do you want more water? Or—?"
"I want you to lie down," she whispered.
He frowned. "Ella—"
"Just—" Her lips trembled. "Please. Lie beside . Just for a little while."
Nicholas hesitated for the briefest mont, then nodded.
Without another word, he slipped off his shoes and climbed carefully onto the narrow hospital bed, curling his body beside hers. His arms went around her gently, mindful of her injuries, but firm enough to make her feel wrapped in sothing unshakable.
Ella pressed her face into his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne—now faint, mixed with sweat and hospital air—but still him.
His fingers stroked the back of her head softly.
"I’ve got you," he whispered again, lips brushing her hairline.
"I know."
They lay like that for a long while, not speaking.
Ella’s heart slowed in his arms. Her mind, once racing with crash images and sirens, softened into sothing quieter.
Eventually, her lips moved against his chest. "I keep hearing it."
"Hearing what?"
"The sound." Her eyes squeezed shut. "The tal. The glass."
Nicholas’s arms tightened just slightly, not enough to hurt her ribs, but enough for her to feel held.
"I know," he whispered. "I hear it too."
Her throat worked. "It’s so stupid, but I keep thinking... what if it was worse? What if I wasn’t—?"
His voice cut her off, firm but gentle. "Don’t. Don’t go there, Ella."
"But I did," she whispered. "I did go there, Nicholas. I thought I was going to die."
His chest rose beneath her cheek. His hand found hers again, their fingers lacing together between their bodies.
"You didn’t." His voice was low but steady. "You’re here. With ."
Her lips quivered. "I didn’t want to die before telling you I love you."
A breath shook out of him. "You did tell ."
"I know. But I was scared I wouldn’t get the chance again."
He kissed her temple softly, his breath hot and uneven.
"You’ll have a thousand more chances," he murmured, lips lingering there. "I’ll make sure of it."
Her eyes welled again, but this ti the tears didn’t sting. They just... were. Present. Soft.
"I’m sorry I made you worry," she whispered.
His jaw flexed against her forehead. "Don’t apologize for sothing you couldn’t control."
"But you were scared."
"Of course I was." His voice broke quietly. "I’ve never been that scared in my life."
Her heart twisted.
"Nicholas—"
"I thought I was going to lose you." His lips pressed to her hair again, his breath shaky. "I thought I was too late."
"You weren’t."
"I’ll never be too late." His voice turned fierce, but it was edged with tenderness. "You’re stuck with now, baby."
A weak laugh escaped her lips, muffled against his chest. "Good."
He smiled against her hair, eyes closing briefly.
They stayed curled together like that until a soft knock sounded at the door.
A nurse peeked in. "Mr. Carter? Miss Marquez? Sorry to interrupt."
Nicholas’s hand rubbed Ella’s back slowly. "It’s alright."
"I just need to check her vitals," the nurse said kindly.
Nicholas kissed the top of Ella’s head and shifted carefully out of the bed, but he kept hold of her hand the entire ti the nurse worked—through the blood pressure check, the temperature reading, the soft reassurances that everything looked good.
Ella’s eyes stayed locked on Nicholas the whole ti, her hand never leaving his.
When the nurse left, Nicholas sat back down, still close.
"You know," he murmured, brushing her hair from her face again, "I don’t think I’m letting you out of my sight for the next few weeks."
Her lips curved faintly. "Is that so?"
He smiled, but his eyes stayed soft. "I’m going to spoil you so badly, you won’t know what to do with yourself."
"I’ll try to survive it."
"I’ll carry you everywhere if I have to."
Ella let out a soft, shaky breath. "Okay."
His gaze locked on hers, and for the first ti since the crash, his lips curved into sothing real. Sothing full.
"Rest now," he whispered, kissing her forehead one more ti. "I’m right here, Ella. I’m not going anywhere."
Her eyes fluttered closed, her hand still cradled in his.
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