Chapter 60 Tristan
TRISTAN
Hospital waiting rooms were all the same. Same antiseptic smell. Same uncomfortable chairs. Same fluorescent lights washing everything in sickly green. But this time felt different.
Cole’s hand was cold in mine, his grip tight enough to hurt. Eva’s father sat in the corner, hands clasped between his knees.
Alek paced by the windows like a caged animal. Every few minutes, his phone buzzed—probably Dmitri coordinating cleanup at Carter Industries. The police would have questions about Carter’s death, but that was a problem for later.
The team had been rotating through since we’d arrived.
Massi and Haruto guarding the entrance, keeping reporters at bay.
Rami bringing coffee. Sage arrived then left just as quickly, only to come back an hour later with two gruff-looking bikers who spelled Massi and Haruto guarding the cardiac wing.
Rory and Violetta lit up all the group chats to arrange meal trains and support for after—their hope sustaining us.
Even Andrzej had shown up, looking lost. Together, our friends formed a protective wall around her, around us.
My phone lit up with another message in the team’s group chat.
Massi
I called my cousins to help with the press. They’re contained. For now.
I swallowed. Massi didn’t like his mafia connections any more than Cole liked his connection to his father.
The double doors to the operating theatre swung open, and Dr. Kouassi emerged, still in his surgery scrubs. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, but his shoulders were relaxed.
“She’s stable.” Dr. Kouassi held up a hand as Cole surged forward. “The blood thinners are working. Her valve function is improving, but the next twenty-four hours are critical. We’ll be monitoring her closely for any signs of further clotting or bleeding.”
“The other injuries?” Alek’s voice was raw.
“Bruising, some internal bleeding we’ve addressed.” Dr. Kouassi’s gaze swept over us. “The stress and missed medications caused valve thrombosis. Her body’s been through hell these past months. What she needs now is rest. Healing. No stress.”
Conrad Jackson lifted his head. “My daughter—” His voice cracked. “Can I see her?”
Dr. Kouassi’s expression softened. “Of course.”
My phone buzzed again.
Cedric
Called in a favor with some scouts. Interested and want a call tomorrow.
Me
Eva’s in the hospital.
Cedric
Is she okay?
Me
*shrugging emoji*
We have a lot to catch up on.
Cedric
Take care of your girl. Scouts will be there when she’s out.
Cole glanced at my screen and squeezed my hand. “At least one good thing came from this mess. You’ll get your shot at the NHL.”
“But you gave up yours.” The guilt twisted in my chest. “Cole—”
“Don’t.” He exhaled slowly. “I feel like I should feel something other than relief.”
“You okay?” I immediately felt foolish asking the question. He’d just killed his own father.
Cole’s thumb traced circles on my palm. “I don’t know. Maybe it doesn’t matter.”
He squeezed my fingers, and I remembered Eva doing the same thing, then steeling her spine whenever she had to do something difficult. How impossibly proud she was and how hard she worked, how hard it had been for her to accept our help. Her quiet strength.
Alek stopped pacing. “We should give her space,” he said.
I stared at him. “What? Absolutely not. We need to show her how much we—” My voice broke. “How much we love her,” I finished, lifting my chin.
His jaw clenched so tight, I could see the veins popping under his beard. “No. We should step back and let her get on her feet without us.”
“The fuck we should.” My voice rose with my frustration. “She almost died! Again! And you want to abandon her?”
“I’m not—” Alek’s hands clenched into fists. “I’m trying to do what’s right for her.”
“Leaving her alone is what’s right?” I was on my feet now, getting in his face. “After everything? After she—”
“After she nearly died because of me! Because of us!” Alek roared, and the waiting room went dead silent, even the nurses at their station. “Because none of us have earned her trust, and now, she’s in the ICU because I fucked up.”
His voice cracked on the last word.
I inhaled sharply, ready to rebuke him, when Cole spoke up.
“She’s in the hospital again because of us,” Cole said. “Because my father fucked with her to fuck with me.”
“No—” I started.
“Yes.” Cole stood, his movements careful, like he was about to fall apart but didn’t dare, not yet.
“She deserves us,” I said desperately. “She forgave us.”
“Did she?” Alek asked quietly. “Or did we manipulate her into it? How many times did she say no, Tristan? How many times did we ignore her?”
I wanted to argue with them, but then I remembered blackmailing her with Cole, remembered how I kept showing up when she said no, remembered how I’d forced my way back into her life whether she wanted it or not.
“We’re poison,” Cole said, his voice flat.
“My father, his business—she’s hurting because twice I was too selfish to let her walk out of my life.
If you think this was bad, wait until the bloodbath as the bratva fights with my father’s creditors for the remains of his empire.
I can’t let her get caught up in this fucking mess. ”
“How many times are we going to have to ask for her forgiveness?” Alek murmured. “How much hurt are we going to force her to survive?”
“This is bullshit,” I protested. “Your father did this,” I said to Cole. “He did all of this. Not you.”
“When we had a chance to do better, did we take it?” Cole said. “Did we respect her wishes when she said she never wanted to see us again, or did we manipulate her into taking us back? She nearly died! Again! Because we were too selfish to let her go when we should have.”
“So what are we supposed to do, walk away from her when she needs us most?” I asked.
Alek’s jaw clenched. “We give her what we should have given her from the start—safety and real choice and time to make that choice.”
“Forever?” I rasped.
“As long as it takes,” Cole said, “until she’s ready.”
“And if she never is?” My voice was raw and desperate.
Alek swallowed. “Then we live with that.”
Cole shuddered, and his eyes turned glassy. “We have to,” he said, his voice raspy with unshed tears.
Alek stared out the window, like looking at us hurt.
Yeah, it fucking hurt a lot. They were right, though.
Dr. Kouassi poked his head into the waiting room through the swinging double doors. “You can see her. One at a time.”
None of us moved. We were so fucking weak.
“I’ll do it,” I said softly, standing.
Cole caught my arm. “Tell her—” He stopped.
“I know.”
The walk to Eva’s room felt endless. Massi stood guard outside, his massive frame blocking curious nurses. He caught my arm as I passed. “Make this right, asshole.”
Inside, the steady beep of Eva’s monitor mixed with the soft hiss of oxygen. She looked impossibly small in the hospital bed, dark bruises marking her throat where Carter had grabbed her. The cardiac monitor showed numbers I couldn’t interpret, but they seemed steady.
I couldn’t move closer. If I did, I’d never leave.
“Hey, sweet kitten.” My voice cracked. “I need you to listen, okay?”
Her eyelids fluttered but didn’t open. The smallest frown creased her forehead—that same expression she’d worn when concentrating on a particularly difficult injury, or when she was trying to hide pain during practice.
“Remember when we first met? And I followed you to the library and you told me to fuck off, but I just wouldn’t listen? I should have, but I was so fucking selfish.”
One hand twitched toward my voice, and god, how many times had she reached for us like that? In sleep, in pleasure, in pain?
“I’m sorry, Eva, for all of it. For blackmailing you, for treating you like a game, for making you think you were less than anything. You’re not. You’re everything.”
The monitor’s rhythm quickened slightly.
“You deserve so much better than what we gave you.” My vision blurred.
“We love you. All of us. I don’t know if Cole and Alek even realize how they feel, but I do.
I’m so fucking in love with you, it hurts to breathe.
And that’s why—” The words felt like a knife in my throat. “That’s why I have to go.”
Her fingers twitched again, and I had to clench my hands to keep from reaching for her.
“Not forever. Just until it’s safe. And until you’re ready—without the pressure and the manipulation and the blackmail and Jed Carter trying to kill your father.” I swallowed, hot tears pressing behind my eyes. “If you’re ever ready, we’ll be here.”
Her fingers moved again, reaching for me, and I almost broke, remembering how her face would light up every time I brought her that stupid sweet coffee drink she loved so much, as if every time it was a surprise that I was being nice to her.
A tear slipped down her cheek. The monitor stuttered then steadied.
I touched her hand just once, so I could remember what her skin felt like beneath my fingers. “I love you,” I whispered, “and I’m so sorry.”
In the hallway, I made it three steps before my legs gave out. I slid down the wall, my head in my hands, and tried to remember how to breathe.
Cole found me there and knelt beside me in silence, pressing his forehead to mine while I fell apart.
“We’re doing the right thing,” he whispered, but his voice shook.
“Doesn’t feel right.”
“No.” His grip tightened. “But she deserves better than what we gave her.” He broke off, glancing at her through the doorway.
I pulled away before the pain could break me completely. “Go. Say goodbye.”
I don’t know how long I sat there—long enough for Cole to come out looking like death, for Alek to go in and come out with his eyes red and his hands shaking.
The hospital corridor stretched before me, sterile and endless. Through the waiting room windows, I could see Rami and Haruto still standing guard. They’d make sure she healed, make sure she stayed safe—from Carter’s legacy, from the press, from us.
Her father looked up, guilt etched into his face. “You’re leaving?”
“Yes,” Alek said, his voice hollow.
“You’re idiots,” Conrad said flatly. “All three of you.”
None of us argued.
“Take care of her,” Alek said. “Please.”
Somewhere in the maze of machines and monitors, Eva’s heart kept beating. Healing. Growing stronger.
Without us.
Just like she would.
Just like we all would.
Until she was ready.
If she was ever ready.
But for now, we’d give her the only gift we had left to give.
Freedom.