Page 136 of Heart of The Night

‘I’m just… rattled,’ he murmured, his voice shaking slightly. ‘This whole ordeal has left me feeling naïve and utterly powerless. I keep telling myself it wasn’t my fault, but it terrifies me to think that an action of mine could lead to such dire consequences. The man tried to kill me, Cara. He seriously meant to end my life – I’m sure of it.’

A sharp pain twisted in my chest as I absorbed the weight of his words. ‘Will, I…’ My voice cracked, the edges of my vision blurring with more tears. I squeezed his hand tighter, anchoring myself to the moment, to him. The stark reality that I could have lost him, that his light could have been snuffed out so senselessly… The fragility of life, so cruelly underscored by this experience, was suffocating. I fought against the surge of despair, desperate to find words that might soothe, might heal. ‘No one should ever have to endure what you’ve gone through. But you’re here, you’re alive, and that’s what matters now.’

William swallowed hard, a visible struggle against the emotions clogging his throat. ‘Sitting here, still breathing… It all feels so odd. Even this’ – his voice faltered as he squeezed my hand – ‘holding your hand, feels surreal. I keep thinking I might never have had the chance to do this again. To hold your hand, to hear my parents’ voices, to banter with Jason, to hear you all breathe. It’s overwhelming, and it’s made me realise how much I’ve taken for granted. I’m still trying to unpack the mountain of lessons this incident has taught me. It’s been eye-opening, to say the least.’

Like him, I stared at our intertwined hands, my eyes moistening further. My emotions teetered on the edge, raw and sensitive, stirred by his poignant words.

‘I don’t know what to say,’ I admitted. The thought of being so close to death, as he had been, was unimaginable to me. I had never faced mortality so closely – not that I knew of, at least.

‘You don’t have to say anything,’ William murmured, his feeble voice shredding the last defences around my heart.

Since I couldn’t trust my voice not to break into sobs, I simply shook my head and tightened my grip on his hand.

‘I’m arranging to meet with a counsellor next week,’ he said then, a hint of determination seeping through the frailty. ‘As part of the victim support programme. Both the police and my doctor urged me to see someone before you arrived today. Mum and Dad will want me to as well, so I’m going to give it a go.’

I kissed his hand repeatedly, inhaling his familiar scent. ‘You should,’ I murmured softly.

William paused, his eyes locking with mine, a blend of vulnerability and incredulity flickering across his face. ‘Can you imagine how surreal it will be if I have to deal with Francesca for the rest of my life?’ He let out a short, humourless laugh, the absurdity of the situation momentarily lightening the gravity in his tone. ‘I mean, if that test shows I’m the father… After all she’s done, I can barely stomach even the thought.’

I felt the weight of the envelope in my bag, its contents a turning point that loomed ominously over us. Taking a sharp breath, I reached for it.

‘Actually, the result came today,’ I said, my hands shaking as I pulled out the envelope, the rustle of paper loud in the quiet of the hospital room.

William watched, his breath held, as I extended the envelope to him.

‘We don’t have to open it now if you’re not ready,’ I said, understanding the enormity of what the document represented.

He gulped, nodding slowly as he reached out a hand toward the envelope, his fingers brushing against mine. ‘No, we should do it now. No matter what it says, I need to know. I need to face whatever comes next.’

My pulse quickened as he tore open the envelope and drew out the papers, his eyes briefly closing before he steeled himself to look. As he unfolded the documents, I put my hand on his thigh, hoping to ground him – hoping to remind him that he wasn’t alone in this, regardless of the words printed on the page.

‘Whatever it says, I’m here,’ I told him firmly.

He nodded, drawing a deep breath as his eyes began to scan the first lines, the moment stretching between us, filled with hope and fear in equal measure. His gaze flicked back and forth across the page, each line seemingly taking an age to read, his expression a mask of concentration and apprehension. The room fell into a deep silence, broken only by the soft whir of nearby medical equipment.

Finally, he let out a long, slow breath that he seemed to have been holding forever. He looked up from the paper, his eyes wide as they locked with mine.

‘It’s negative,’ he whispered, the words barely audible. ‘I’m… I’m not the father.’

The words cut through the tension like a knife. Relief surged. I gasped, tears instantly leaking from my eyes. All the fear, all the uncertainty of the past weeks melted away in an instant.

William’s face crumpled, the stoic façade he had maintained shattering as tears started to slide down his cheeks. He dropped the papers, reached out for my hand and clutched it. ‘Cara, I… I’m free. We’re free from this nightmare.’

Words failed me. I nodded, drying my face and sniffling. The relief was too visceral, too all-encompassing to contain. I stood up, wrapping my arms around him, our sobs mingling in the quiet room.

‘Thank you,’ he choked out between sobs. ‘Thank you for being here, for standing by me through every moment of this hell.’

I pulled back slightly, wiping his cheeks with my fingers, my own tears still falling. ‘Of course, William. I love you.’

More tears came as we held each other, but they were tears of release, of a future reclaimed. We stayed like that for a long while, letting the reality wash over us.

Gradually, our tears began to dry, and a calm settled between us. William’s gaze drifted to the boxes of chocolates on the table.

‘I haven’t had much of an appetite lately, but suddenly, I could really use a chocolate,’ he said with a small smile.

I chuckled lightly, drying my cheeks, then opened a box. William studied the rows of chocolate, each piece distinct in hue, before he selected a dark one. As he brought it to his mouth, I picked one for myself.

William hummed appreciatively, the corners of his mouth curling slightly. ‘These are delicious,’ he murmured, eyeing the box curiously. ‘Who are they from?’

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