Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Nysa
I wake up to the rhythmic beeping of a monitor and the sterile smell of antiseptic mixed with hospital linens. For a moment, I don’t know where I am. If this is real. If I’m trapped in one of those endless nightmares where you wake up only to find yourself in another dream.
But then it all comes rushing back, slamming into me like a wave I can’t outrun. The cold seeping into my bones. The suffocating dark. The sting of the blade as it sliced my skin. The coppery tang of blood in my mouth. The hands—brutal and unrelenting—grabbing me, shoving me, breaking me.
I suck in a breath, ragged and shallow, my body tensing instinctively, bracing for an impact that isn’t coming.
I shift slightly, the ache in my ribs reminding me of every bruise, every hit, every moment I thought I wouldn’t survive. My head turns, my gaze dragging toward the chair beside me.
And there he is. Hopper.
He’s slumped forward, his large frame crammed awkwardly into the too-small chair, his arms folded on the edge of the bed, his face buried in them. His breathing is slow and even, but there’s nothing peaceful about it.
Because even in sleep, his hand grips mine. Like he’s afraid to let go. Like he won’t let go—not even now.
The sight of him sends a fresh wave of emotion crashing through me. Tears sting my eyes, hot and unwelcome, and a knot forms in my throat so tight I can barely swallow. I stare at him—at the roughness of his jaw, the stubble that shadows his face, the tension carved into every line of his shoulders, his hands, his entire body.
He looks wrecked.
And yet, he stayed right next to me.
I try to squeeze his hand, but my fingers feel like they’re weighed down by sand, sluggish from the IV taped to my wrist. The motion must be enough, though, because Hopper stirs.
His head lifts slowly, like he’s dragging himself out of a fog. His blue eyes find mine, and the second they do, everything in him changes.
They go wide—relief crashing through the exhaustion clouding his features.
“Nysa.”
The way he says my name—it’s hoarse, raw, like he’s torn it from somewhere deep inside him.
Like it’s a prayer. A plea. A promise.
I try to smile, but my lips tremble. “You stayed.”
His hand tightens around mine, just enough to remind me I’m here, that this is real. “Of course I stayed,” he says, his voice breaking around the words. “Where else would I be?”
I blink against the blur of tears stinging my eyes. “I don’t know . . . I mean, I almost . . .” My voice falters, cracking beneath the weight of everything I can’t say, the emotions crashing over me, pulling me under.
Hopper leans in, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from my face, his touch achingly careful. “Don’t,” he murmurs. “Don’t think about that. You’re here. You’re safe. That’s all that matters now.”
But I see it—the way his jaw flexes, the fire simmering just beneath his quiet, controlled exterior.
“Hopper,” I whisper, my voice unsteady.
He shakes his head, cutting me off. “We got them,” he says, his voice low and certain. “Most of them. But Mal . . . he’s fucking pissed. This whole thing, the way it played out—we don’t know what we just woke up. It doesn’t matter, though. We have you back. I have you with me.”
The tears spill over, hot streaks down my cheeks, and I don’t try to stop them.
“Thank you,” I choke out.
His hand moves to my face now, his thumb sweeping a tear away. His blue eyes soften, and for a moment, that protective fire melts into something deeper, something that makes my chest ache in an entirely different way.
“You don’t thank me for this,” he murmurs, his voice rough but sure. “You don’t thank someone for loving you.”
The lump in my throat cracks open, and suddenly, I can’t hold it in anymore.
I almost break right then and there.
I barely get a breath in before he’s at my side, his grip firm, his body close. Silence falls between us, thick with everything we haven’t said yet. All the fear. All the pain. All the what-ifs. And suddenly, I need to say something. Because if I don’t, I’ll drown in this moment.
“I thought I was going to die,” I whisper, my voice barely recognizable.
Hopper’s whole body stiffens, his jaw locking so tight I can hear his teeth grind.
“I thought I’d never see you again,” I keep going, even though my voice is shaking, even though my throat is raw. “Or Maddie. I—I couldn’t . . .” My breath hitches. “I wanted to live. For you, for her.”
His fingers tighten around mine. “Nysa?—”
“I thought I’d never hear Maddie laugh again,” I cut him off, my chest rising and falling in uneven bursts. “Never feel you?—”
My voice breaks, a sob choking out of me.
And that’s when he breaks too.
Hopper leans in, pressing his forehead to mine, his breath shaking, his entire body trembling against me.
“I almost lost you,” he whispers, his voice barely there.
I grip his shirt weakly, grounding myself in his warmth, his scent, the solid presence of him.
“You didn’t,” I murmur, turning my face into his neck, needing more of him, all of him.
“I should’ve been faster.”
“Hopper—”
“I should’ve gotten to you before they touched you.”
I pull back, forcing him to look at me.
“You found me,” I whisper. “That’s what matters.”
A knock at the door startles us both.
Hopper stiffens, his body going rigid, his eyes flashing with something lethal.
But then?—
A little giggle.
“Nys, I need my Nys.”
My heart stumbles.
Maddie.
Hopper glances at me, searching my face, waiting for my nod.
I wipe at my face quickly, even though I know there’s no hiding what I’ve been through.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I need to see her.”
He exhales slowly, then moves to open the door.
Maddie comes racing in, her little arms flailing, her curls bouncing with every hurried step. Atlas is right behind her, with Ledger and Gale flanking him, their faces unreadable.
“Be gentle with Nysa, pumpkin,” Hopper warns, but she’s already climbing onto the bed, her little face pinched with worry.
“You gotted hurt?” she asks, her lower lip wobbling.
I nod, my throat too tight to speak for a second. “I did,” I finally manage, my voice soft. “But I’ll be okay.”
Her tiny hands reach for mine, her fingers warm and careful.
Hopper watches us, his expression unreadable, his fists clenched at his sides. That’s when I realize something. I don’t just love him. I love them. I love this little girl who stole my heart the second she called me Nys. And even when it terrifies me, I wouldn’t change this feeling for anything.
Maddie curls up next to me, her little body tucking in like she belongs there. Within minutes, her breathing evens out, soft and warm against my side.
“I’m glad you’re okay, Nys.” Atlas lingers at the door, his arms crossed. “Don’t scare the shit out of me like that again, yeah?”
I huff out a soft laugh. “I’ll do my best.”
“We’re glad you’re fine,” Gale says. “I’ll be helping you while you recover. Maddie and I have a plan.”
“We will be there for you guys,” Ledger states. “Mal too, even when he’s busy filing paperwork right now.”
“Thank you,” I whisper trying not to wake up Maddie.
Atlas gives me a look, one that’s half relief, half ‘I’ll kill for you, just say the word,’ and then he jerks his chin toward the others. “We’ll be in the waiting room.”
They all file out, leaving just me, Hopper, and Maddie curled up beside me.
Hopper sinks back into the chair, his fingers brushing over Maddie’s curls, then over my hand, his touch light but lingering.
The silence stretches, but it’s not uncomfortable.
It’s safe.
And suddenly, I don’t want to wait another second. Because what if I never got this moment?
What if I never got to say it?
I exhale slowly, then turn to look at him. “I love you,” I say. “I love you, Hopper Timberbridge.”
His breath catches. His eyes snap to mine, shock flickering across his face for half a second before it melts into something deeper. Something that steals the air from my lungs.
Then, just as softly, he whispers, “I love you too, Nysa.” His voice is rough, like it’s been waiting to be said for a long, long time. “I love you so fucking much.”
The words settle deep in my chest, in my bones, my blood, my soul.
This man.
This grumpy, brooding, fiercely protective man.
This man who would burn the world down for me.
He loves me.
And for the first time in my entire life, I let myself believe I deserve it. Hopper leans forward, pressing a kiss to my forehead, then my cheek, then the corner of my mouth. His lips linger, his breath warm against my skin.
“I’m never letting you go again.” His voice is low, rough, a promise and a vow all at once.
I press my hand over his, my body aching but safe, tired but whole. “I’m not running anymore. I promise to stay under the same sky, next to you and our Maddie.”
He exhales deeply, his lips brushing my temple.
And just like that, we become each other’s home.