23. Stop Talking
Chapter 23
Stop Talking
MEGAN
I didn’t think my body could still tremble like this.
Not after everything.
Not after watching Hunter’s chest rise and fall so slowly, so helplessly, through the haze of medical machines. But here I am, staring at my phone screen, fingers shaking, barely able to keep my thoughts straight as Lars’ recorded words echo in my head.
Hunter's awake.
The moment I heard those words, it felt like the world around me shifted. The hospital room, the muted beeps, and the sterile smells all faded into the background, leaving just one undeniable fact: Hunter is alive. Awake. And somewhere beyond these walls, he is waiting for me.
I press my palm against my belly, feeling the light flutter of the baby moving inside me, reminding me that despite everything, I’m not alone. But the thought of facing Hunter again... I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel.
He’s alive—that should be enough, right?
But what if it’s not the same? No matter how strong he may be, will a man who wakes up from a traumatic brain injury be the same? What if…?
"Stop it," I whisper, my voice trembling. "You have to be strong, Megan."
As soon as I returned Lars's call, I shared the good news with Lena, Vaughn, and Christian, but we all agreed that I should be the one to visit Hunter first.
I force myself to stand, each movement feeling like an uphill battle. Every step toward his room feels like stepping closer to an unknown I’m not sure I’m ready to face.
Hunter has always been my rock, the one person who can ground me in the midst of all the chaos that surrounds us. Seeing him in a coma this past week has shattered something inside me. I felt so powerless, so lost as if a piece of myself was missing. And now, knowing he’s awake, I should feel whole again.
But I don’t. Not yet.
I make my way down the hospital corridor, the cold tiles beneath my feet doing nothing to soothe the storm raging inside me. Lars is waiting for me just outside the nurses’ station. His normally stoic expression is softer today, relieved.
“Hey,” he says, his voice low, almost hesitant. “You okay?”
I nod, though I’m not sure if it’s true. "Does he... remember everything?" The question slips out before I can stop it. It’s the only thing I can think about. What if he doesn’t remember me? Us?
Lars rubs the back of his neck, his gaze flicking toward the door down the hall. "He’s still piecing things together, but he remembers you, Megan. He’s been asking for you."
Something in my chest loosens, and for the first time since I got Lars' call, I take a breath. He remembers me. That should be enough to calm the torrent of emotions swirling inside me. But the anxiety gnaws at me still.
I try to smile, but it feels more like a grimace. “I guess I should go in then.”
“Take your time,” Lars says, his accented tone understanding. He knows this is bigger than just a reunion. Hunter waking up changes everything, but we still have a long road ahead. “They just took the breathing tube out, but he’s still a little worse for wear.”
I bite my bottom lip anxiously.
“I promise it looks worse than it is. He’s not going anywhere.”
I nod again, but my feet feel like they’re stuck in quicksand. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, I manage to force myself to walk toward his room. The door looms ahead of me, and my hand hovers over the handle, my heart pounding in my ears. What if he’s different? What if we’re different?
The door swings open with a soft creak, and the first thing I notice is the quiet. There aren’t as many beeping machines and no more hushed voices of stoic doctors. Just the soft sound of Hunter breathing. And there he is, sitting up in bed, looking both familiar and entirely different at the same time.
His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, everything else fades away.
“Megan,” he attempts to greet me. His voice is rough and raspy from disuse, but it’s Hunter. My Hunter. My knees almost give out, and I have to grip the edge of the doorframe to steady myself.
I swallow the lump in my throat, forcing myself to walk toward him. “You’re awake.”
He gives me a tired smile, a ghost of the one that used to make my heart race.
I don’t know what to say. I should be overjoyed, but there’s this strange sense of distance between us, like an invisible barrier that I don’t know how to break through. The last time I saw him, he was a broken man—battered, unconscious, and on life support. The love of my life was slipping away from me while I sat helplessly by his bedside, praying for a miracle.
And now he’s back. But the wounds run deeper than I can see.
“Come,” Hunter says, his hand reaching out toward me. His fingers tremble slightly, but the familiar command in his strained is undeniable.
“Don’t talk,” I tell him.
Then I take his hand, feeling the warmth of his pale skin against mine, and all the tension I’ve been holding onto melts away. Without thinking, I sit on the edge of the bed, my other hand still cradling my belly. His gaze drops for a moment, and I can see the questions swirling in his eyes.
“The baby’s fine. We’re both fine.”
Relief floods his expression, but it’s quickly replaced by something else—guilt?
“I don’t want you worrying about my business,” he mutters, his grip tightening on my hand. “You should be?—”
“Stop.” I cut him off, shaking my head. “Don’t do that. You’ve spent your life building that business. It’s our son or daughter’s legacy,” I remind him, patting my stomach.
His jaw clenches, the tension in his body palpable. “I didn’t protect you,” he coughs. “You were left alone to deal with all of this. I?—”
“Stop fucking talking I said.”
I place a finger over his lips, silencing him. “You survived. That’s all that matters.” My voice cracks, and I hate how vulnerable I sound, but it’s the truth. As long as Hunter is drawing breath, we’ll always be okay. I know this just as sure as I know the sun will set tonight.
Hunter’s eyes soften, but I can see the war going on inside him. “Megan, I?—”
Before he can finish, I move closer, resting my head against his chest, just listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It’s the only sound I need right now. His hand moves to the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair as he holds me close.
“I missed you,” I whisper, my voice muffled against his hospital gown. “I missed you so much.”
“I’m here now,” he murmurs into my hair. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
For a long time, we sit like that, wrapped in each other’s presence, not saying anything. There’s nothing left to say. We’ve both been through hell and now we have to find a way back to each other. I feel the weight of his arm as it drapes over my shoulders, holding me close as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear.
But the truth is, we’re both scared. Scared of what comes next. Scared of what we’ve lost and what we might never get back. But at this moment, with Hunter’s heartbeat beneath my cheek, I realize something.
We’re still here.
Together.
And that’s more than enough.
After what feels like hours, I pull back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes.
"We have a lot to talk about."
Hunter nods, his expression serious. "I know."
"I don’t even know where to start," I admit, biting my lip. "Everything's changed."
It will be a long time before Hunter is going to be well enough to be who he was in his world. And until he gets back on his feet, I’m going to have to keep everything afloat. I won’t fail.
He reaches up, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “I’ll figure it out. I always do."
His words are meant to be reassuring, but there’s an uncertainty in his eyes that wasn’t there before. We both know things won’t be the same, not after everything he’s been through. Fabre has to be dealt with, and there will be fallout, but I suppose we’ll have to take it one step at a time. It’s our only choice now.
“We’ll figure it out,” I correct him. “Together.”
“I love you,” he adds, his hand resting gently on my belly.
There was a moment when I thought I’d never hear Hunter say those words again, and I want to cry. Like, I really want to have a good old ugly cry. But that would only worry him. So, instead, I place my hand over his, feeling the warmth of his touch seep into me.
I slowly rise from the position I’m in on the bed and kiss Hunter on his cracked lips.
“You better,” I whisper into his mouth.
And for the first time since all of this began, I’m actually believing that there is a real happily-ever-after in our future.
Except it’s my turn to be Prince Charming.