“I can’t lose you Savannah. I can’t go through that again. Not that kind of hurt. Not when my heart feels like it’s fighting to stay inside of my chest.”
I understood everything she was saying. Because getting shot didn’t just bring out the fighter in me, it brought out fear as well. The fear of losing any of the people that I loved. The only people I had left. But if she was opening up, I wanted to know more.
“And Ben?” I asked gently.
She didn’t answer right away. Just stared at our hands.
“He met me after I became... this version of me. After all the walls were built. After I convinced myself that love wasn’t worth the fallout.” Her voice trembled, just slightly. “And now? I don’t know what the hell to do with him.”
I squeezed her hand. “Maybe you don’t have to figure it all out tonight.”
“No,” she smiled, watery. “Tonight, I just needed to say it. To someone that mattered.”
We didn’t speak after that. We didn’t need to. We just sat together, two women who’d survived too much, clinging to the pieces still left intact.
Eventually, sleep tugged at the corners of my vision again. I let it take me, knowing for once, I wasn’t alone.
My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest, panic rising in thick, suffocating waves. Sweat rolled down my face, dampening my neck and soaking through the fabric of my shirt. My eyes flew open, struggling to adjust to my surroundings.
It had been a nightmare, I was sure of that much, but the details slipped away like water through my fingers. All I knew was the fear still clinging to my skin.
Somewhere down the hall, I heard laughter, followed by the sound of footsteps.
I tried to wipe my face, but my hair was stuck to my cheeks. My hands trembled. Then Millie walked into the room, her smile instantly dropping the second she saw me.
“Oh my god, Vannah. What’s wrong?”
I couldn’t answer. Because I didn’t know.
She rushed over, crouching beside the sofa. Her hands moved quickly, brushing my hair back, patting around my face. Her hand flipped over as her knuckles rested on my forehead, then my cheek.
“Geez, you’re burning up,” she muttered, turning her head to shout behind her. “Bring some water in here, would you?”
Jaxson appeared moments later, carrying a few bottles. “Savannah? Hey, baby. Are you okay? You don’t look like you feel well.”
I shook my head slightly. “I’m fine. I think it’s just the meds wearing off.”
“Do you need me to get you more?”
“No,” I said quickly, my voice rough. “It’s probably just my body adjusting to not having them pumped through my veins anymore.”
They didn’t look convinced.
I took a few breaths, forcing my heart rate to settle. “Millie,” I said, glancing down at my clothes, “Can you help me to the bathroom? My shirt’s soaked.”
I didn’t miss the way Jaxson’s jaw tightened—how his eyes dropped helplessly to his hands like he wished he could do more.
And I hated that. I didn’t want him to feel useless. Not after everything he’d done.
“Jaxson,” I called softly, and he looked up. “Do you have any food? Maybe just some bread? I think I’m a little hungry.”
His whole face shifted. “Of course. Want me to order breakfast?”
“No. Just some toast is fine,” I said, trying to give him something to do. Something to feel useful. “I don’t want to cause any more trouble than I already have.”
“You’re not trouble,” he said, brushing his thumb across my temple before pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “Toast it is, but if you want something else, you let me know.”
I nodded. He set the bottles of water down and turned toward what I assumed was the kitchen. I looked around the room for the first time.