Page 157 of A Forgotten Promise

“Jesus, the three of you.” The other friend—this must be Cora—stands between us. “Their marriage is not so fake anymore. So lay off, the two of you. We’ll stay here, and Celeste will text us updates.”

Cal huffs. “The marriage is real?”

“What the fuck?” Finn glowers at me.

“Finn van den Linden, sit fucking down right now,” his wife orders. I like her instantly.

The nurse comes in, and with no further altercation, Celeste and I follow her.

Saar’s chests moves evenly. I’ve been staring at that even, peaceful movement for twenty-four hours.

I’ve been clinging to it like it’s the only thread that connects me to my sanity. To some sort of solace.

Celeste left to catch some shuteye, but I refuse to move from her bedside. Livia sent meals that are left uneaten on the windowsill. Everyone kept texting me, so I turned off the phone.

Time stretches and collapses at the same time, while I sit here suspended in a vacuum of fear, doubt, and anxiety.

Never have I felt this broken.

Never have I felt this insignificant.

Never have I felt this hopeful.

Never have I wanted to switch places with anyone this much.

When we’re out of here, I’m taking her on vacation. I’m taking her on all the dates she deserves.

I’ve been making plans for us to pass the time and focus on the good, the future, on us instead of the uncertainty.

Fuck, I hate uncertainty.

The door opens quietly, and Celeste comes in. She is worried, but looks rested, wearing a different dress.

She takes a chair on the other side of the bed and lifts her eyebrows in question. I shake my head, and she understands.

“No change is good, too,” she murmurs, rubbing her belly.

“I’m going crazy here,” I admit.

“Go outside for a moment—”

“No.” I would rather go through Hell and back than leave her side. “They lowered the sedatives; she could wake up any minute.”

We sit in silence while I continue staring at Saar’s breathing chest like it’s my lifeline. It is.

“I never liked you,” Celeste says.

“I don’t particularly care.”

She snorts. “But you cracked her veneer, so I guess I will have to accept you.”

Again, like with Lily, I’m a man starved for validation. “Her shell is thick; the hairline fracture I might have caused is not enough yet.”

“Her shell is, but her skin is thicker, so that may be to your advantage.”

I frown, momentarily moving my gaze from Saar.

“She knows how to deal with assholes.” Celeste shrugs, a ghost of a grin on her face.

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