Page 121 of Lassoed Love

“Seriously, what’s so bad about him? He’s a catch, Midge—single, caring, funny,” Isla suggests.

“Nah, I would like to find myself a mature man, not a twenty-eight-year-old who acts like a child.”

“But that’s what makes him so unique,” I retort, raising an eyebrow.

“You have to admit, he’s incredibly attractive,” Isla says, raising her arms in defence, “I mean that in the friendliest way possible, not in any other way,” she rambles quickly, and I laugh, pulling her close to kiss the top of her head.

“Yeah, I know, princess. I agree, the fucker knows he’s attractive. That’s why he is the way he is, because he knows girls will fall for his charm.”

“Yeah…girls. Not this woman,” Imogen retorts, pointing at herself.

“I’m not saying he’snotattractive—he isveryattractive—butif you ever hear me utter those words to him or anyone else, then I give you permission to slap me silly. Because surely I must be on drugs.” She points her finger at Isla and me.

“This is a safe space, and it stays between us,” Isla says with a smirk, and we both laugh.

Imogen then glances at the beeping monitor and then back at Isla, changing the subject. “How’s he doing today?”

Isla sighs. “No change, Midge. Doctors are hopeful, but it’s a waiting game.”

“Well, you know where I am if you need anything. Seriously, anything,” Imogen reassures, moving closer to Isla, to give her shoulder a reassurance squeeze.

“I know. It means a lot,” Isla says, her voice filled with gratitude.

Imogen gives us both a lingering look before excusing herself, promising to check in later. As the door closes behind her, Isla lets out a heavy breath.

“This waiting stuff is brutal,” she says, leaning into my shoulder.

“Yeah, it is,” I agree, wrapping my arm around her. “But we’re in this together.”

We sit in companionable silence, the beeping of the monitor creating a strange sort of rhythm in the room. Isla breaks the silence, “You know, your mum was sweet to stop by.”

I nod. “Yeah, she cares. We all do.”

She looks up at me, her eyes reflecting a mix of exhaustion and appreciation. “I’m lucky to have you, Xav.”

“Luck’s all mine, sweetheart,” I reply, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “We’ll get through this, Isla. Together.” She nods.

“Together.”

Istand beside her father’s bed, my arm wrapped around Isla’s shoulders. She moves to stand closer to him, gripping his hand as she leans down to whisper, “Dad, it’s Isla. We’re all here with you, waiting foryou to wake up. You’re not alone, okay? Please, just open your eyes.”

An audible gasp leaves her lips suddenly and in an instant, I’m by her side, my concern mirrored in her eyes. “What is it, baby? What happened?”

“He moved, Xav. His hand twitched,” she stammers, wide-eyed.

I glance at her father, then back at her, my expression shifting from concern to a mix of disbelief and excitement. “Really?”

Just then, another movement, more pronounced this time. Her dad’s hand twitches again, and Isla gasps once more. “Xavier, call the nurses! Now!”

I reach for the call button, pressing it urgently. The room is soon filled with the sound of hurried footsteps as the medical team rushes in.

Isla, still holding onto her father’s hand, speaks to him with a trembling voice, “Dad, can you hear me? If you can, squeeze my hand.” In an eternity that lasts a moment, her father’s hand tightens around hers.

“He’s responding! He’s waking up!” Isla exclaims, her joy and relief palpable.

The nurses arrive, checking vital signs and assessing her father's condition. Isla continues to talk to him, encouraging him to stay with them. I stand by, offering silent support, marvelling at the unexpected turn of events.

The nurses swarm around her father, assessing his condition and exchanging rapid-fire information. Isla, still gripping his hand, looks at me with a mix of hope and trepidation.

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