Page 8 of Mercy

The thought of Meghan leaving, of not seeing her every day, makes my chest ache.

But I push those feelings aside, focusing on what she needs right now.

"Listen to me," I say, my voice low and intense. "You are the strongest person I know, Meg. You survived a fucking coma. You can handle anything. And if it gets too much, I'm here. We're all here for you. You're not alone in this, okay?"

She looks at me for a long moment, then nods slowly. "Okay. Thank you, Tor. I don't know what I'd do without you."

The sincerity in her voice makes my heart skip a beat.

I want to tell her that she'll never have to find out, that I'll always be here for her.

But before I can say anything, Magnus’ booming voice cuts through the chatter of the clubhouse.

"All right, you lazy bastards! Let's get this party started properly. Who's up for some pool?"

The guys cheer, and soon the sound of clacking pool balls fills the air.

Meghan laughs, the tension leaving her shoulders.

"Some things never change, huh?" she says, a fond smile on her face as she watches the guys crowd around the pool tables.

I grin, glad to see her relaxing. "Nope. You want in on the action? I seem to remember you being pretty handy with a cue stick."

Meghan's eyes light up with a competitive gleam. "Oh, you're on, big guy. Prepare to have your ass handed to you."

As we make our way to the pool tables, I can't help but marvel at how quickly Meghan seems to be settling back in.

The nervousness from earlier is still there, I can see it in the slight tension in her shoulders, but she's pushing through it.

That's the Meghan I know and... care for.

The fighter.

The survivor.

We grab cues and set up for a game, the familiar routine feeling comforting after everything we've been through.

As Meghan leans over the table to take her first shot, her tank top riding up slightly to reveal a strip of smooth skin, I find myself hoping that some things do change.

Because the way I feel when I look at her now?

That's definitely different.

And I'm starting to think that might not be such a bad thing after all.

As Meghan lines up her shot, a blur of motion catches my eye. Starla, Ivar's ol' lady and Meghan's best friend, comes rushing up, her face lit with excitement.

"Meghan!" Starla squeals, throwing her arms around Meghan and nearly knocking her off balance. "I'm so glad you're back home!"

I watch as Meghan returns the hug, a smile on her face.

But the moment Starla says "home," I notice a flicker of something in Meghan's eyes.

A sadness, maybe even a hint of doubt.

It's gone in an instant, but it leaves me unsettled.

Starla pulls back, grinning from ear to ear. "We need to go get a drink and catch up. Come on!"

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