Page 93 of Fallen Empire
I blinked. “Why?”
“Because she needs both of us. And I’m not leaving you to carry that weight alone.”
For a second, I didn’t say anything. Just stared at him like maybe I could see inside his head. But there was no agenda. No smirk. Just honesty.
I looked away before my feelings started showing on my face. “Fine. But don’t hover.”
“No promises.”
He backed out of the parking spot, and I let my head fall against the headrest, eyes drifting shut as we pulled into traffic.
The car ride was quiet—too quiet. My nerves were creeping back in now that we were actually on the way. Savannah. The hospital. The part where I’d completely bailed on my best friend. Where I’d been selfish.
I bit the inside of my cheek. “I know she probably won’t even care that I wasn’t there.” I hadn’t meant to say it out loud,but maybe hearing I wasn’t a complete piece of crap would make it easier to breathe.
Ben glanced sideways. “Mills, even if she noticed, she’s not the type to hold it against you. And Jax is there. She’s fine.”
God. He was right. Again.
Still, I couldn’t shake the guilt pressing in on me. I’d let my guard down. One night. That’s all it took. And while I’d been wrapped up in emotions and orgasms, Savannah had been waking up alone, without me.
Sure, Jaxson was there. But it wasn’t me.
And maybe she didn’t expect it to be. Maybe she never really saw me as the person who’d always show up. She never asked me to be her person. Hell, I don’t think she even realized she needed one.
But the day she walked into my office—with that spark in her eyes someone had clearly tried to dim—I knew. I knew I’d do anything to keep it from burning out.
So I stayed. I cleared my schedule. I made excuses. I inserted myself into her life like it was second nature. Because it was.
And that night before Club 42, when I finally saw what she’d been hiding beneath those long sleeves and perfect smiles, I didn’t need an explanation. It was realization.
I’d protect her forever. In every way that counted.
Even if she never knew why. Even if she never called it what it was.
Soulmates.
I rubbed my palms over my thighs, trying to get the anxiety out before it swallowed me whole. I couldn’t screw this up again.
The elevator doors slid open with a mechanical sigh, and I stepped into the quiet hallway of the critical care floor. Thescent of antiseptic hit me like it always did, sharp and cold, like it had something to prove. It was early, too early for the usual shift change chatter or the buzz of visitors, which made every footstep echo louder than it should have.
I paused for a second, letting my eyes drift down the hallway. The seat in the corner—his seat—was empty.
Gone.
The man with the weary eyes and the wedding band he never took off.
He was really gone this time. I swallowed the lump forming in my throat and briefly wondered how his wife was doing. If she made it through the night. If he ever got the miracle he’d been praying for in silence while the rest of the world moved around him.
Ben didn’t say anything as we walked toward Savannah’s room. He didn’t need to. The air was already thick enough.
I pushed the door open gently, hoping she’d still be asleep. It was early, and for once, I didn’t want to interrupt anything—not rest, not peace, not even the chance of a dream.
Jaxson was right where I figured he’d be, planted in the chair beside her like he’d never moved. His eyes lifted when we walked in, tired but alert.
“Hey,” I whispered, stepping in quietly.
He nodded. “Hey.”
