Chapter 45
The night moves slowly inside the quiet hospital room, measured mostly by the steady rhythm of the monitor beside Aiden’s bed and the occasional footsteps of nurses who slip in every couple of hours to check his vitals.
At some point after midnight, one of the nurses rolls a small recliner into the room for me. She sets it beside the bed with a sympathetic smile.
After she leaves, I pull the recliner a little closer to Aiden’s bed until I can reach him easily. I settle into it and unfold the blanket April brought me earlier, wrapping it around my shoulders before reaching for his hand again.
My fingers close around his, and I settle back into the recliner, content to sit there beside him with his hand resting safely in mine.
Sleep comes in scattered pieces.
Each time my eyes drift closed, they open again not long after. My eyes always drift to him first, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath the blankets.
One of the times I wake in the middle of the night, I realize Aiden is already awake, watching me.
My eyes flutter open slowly, and the moment he notices I’m awake too, the corner of his mouth lifts into his now familiar crooked smile.
“I could watch you sleep forever.”
The words send warmth rushing straight into my cheeks.
I shift slightly in the recliner, suddenly aware of the fact that I haven’t showered in several hours and probably look exactly like it. Still, he only tightens his fingers around mine before lifting our joined hands toward his mouth.
His lips brush softly against the back of my hand.
A quiet flutter runs through my chest.
Later in the night, sometime closer to morning, I wake once more when I feel his fingers move faintly against mine.
The room is dim, the only light spilling in from the hallway outside, and for a moment, we look at each other in the quiet.
“You stayed,” he whispers.
The words are soft and rough with sleep, but the meaning behind them settles deep in my chest.
“Of course I did,” I answer.
There isn’t even a moment of hesitation.
He studies my face for a moment longer, as if committing the sight of me to memory, before his eyes slowly close again. His hand never leaves mine.
Doctor Boskovich arrives shortly after sunrise.
He steps into the room, offering us both a small approving nod before turning his attention to Aiden’s chart.
“Well,” he says after a moment, flipping through the notes the nurses have made all through the night, “you’re looking considerably better today, Mr. Holloway.”
He spends several minutes checking Aiden over while explaining what the next few days will look like after a hypothermia event, listening to his breathing, checking his reflexes, and asking a handful of questions about how he’s feeling.
“You did exactly the right things in the water,” he tells him at one point. “Your instincts probably made a significant difference in how quickly your body is recovering.”
Then he turns his attention toward me.
“For the next few days, rest and warmth will be the most important things,” he explains calmly. “His body went through quite a shock, and fatigue is very normal after something like this.”
I nod immediately, paying close attention to every word.
“I’ll make sure he follows all of it.”
Doctor Boskovich glances between us and smiles faintly.
“I had a feeling you might.”
He looks back down at the chart once more before closing it with a satisfied nod.
“Well then,” he says, “if everything continues to look this good over the next couple of hours, there’s no reason we can’t send you home this morning.”
“Already?” Aiden asks, just as surprised as I am.
The doctor nods.
“You deserve to recover in your own bed.”
As soon as the doctor leaves, I reach for my phone.
Within minutes, I’ve sent messages to what feels like half the town.
Nathan.
April.
George.
And Finn.
ME:
Aiden has been cleared. I’m driving him home soon.
When I look up from the screen again, Aiden is watching me with that same quiet expression in his eyes.
And suddenly the thought of taking him home feels like the beginning of something entirely new.
A couple of hours later, Aiden is officially released.
While he finishes getting dressed, I speak with the nurse right outside his door, listening carefully as she walks me through the instructions for the next few days.
She explains the follow-up visits they want scheduled and the symptoms we should watch for once he’s home.
If any of them appear—difficulty breathing, worsening dizziness, confusion, persistent shivering—she tells me we should bring him back immediately.
I nod through all of it, committing every word to memory.
“I will,” I promise her.
When everything is ready, I bring good old Rusty around to the front of the hospital just as a male nurse brings Aiden outside in a wheelchair.
The morning air brushes across my face as I step out of the driver's side, and I move closer to Aiden while the nurse helps him stand and guides him carefully toward the truck.
His movements are slow and careful, his arms and legs still weak from everything his body went through the day before. The doctors warned me about this, explaining that his muscles would feel sore and heavy for a few days while his body continues recovering from the shock.
“Easy,” the nurse says while helping him settle into the passenger seat.
Once he’s seated, I reach into my backpack and pull out my beanie and the blanket April brought me the night before. I place the beanie over his hair and tuck the blanket carefully around his legs and part of his torso, making sure the cold air doesn’t reach him.
As I adjust the blanket, he lets out a small laugh, his hands come up and cup my face, pulling me gently toward him until his lips meet mine.
His kiss is warm and lingering, and for a moment, I forget we are standing in the middle of a hospital parking lot.
When he finally lets me go, I shake my head at him, smiling as I close the passenger door.
The drive back to his house is quiet but comfortable. Now and then, I glance over at him to make sure he’s still warm beneath the blanket, and each time I do, I find him watching me, his relaxed expression showing he’s finally beginning to feel like himself again.
When we turn onto his street, I expect to see Nathan with his wife and the dogs, or even April and Max, who are staying at my house.
Finn standing beside his truck, however, is not something I expect.
“Oh, good,” Aiden mutters beside me, amusement creeping into his voice. “Your boyfriend is here.”
I roll my eyes as I pull Rusty into his driveway.
“Hold on,” I tell him as I put the truck in park. “Let me help you out.”
I rush to step around the front of the truck, but Finn reaches and opens the passenger door before I get to.
“Princess,” Finn says to Aiden, offering him his hand.
I smack the back of Finn’s arm as I reach them.
“Behave.”
Finn only chuckles.
“Come on, lassy,” he says, turning back to Aiden. “Give me your hand so I can help you, or I’ll be obligated to carry you inside.”
Aiden rolls his eyes but takes Finn’s arm anyway, using it for support as he slowly steps down from the truck.
The moment his feet hit the ground, he winces.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Why am I this sore?”
“Because,” Finn answers casually as he steadies him, “your core body temperature dropped below ninety-five degrees. Should I explain basic hypothermia to you?”
“God, you’re a dick.”
Finn only grins as the two of them begin making their way slowly toward the house.
I hurry ahead of them and knock on the door before they reach the porch. A moment later, it swings open, and Andrés appears on the other side.
The second he sees Aiden standing there between us, he steps aside without a word to let us in.
Uncle Mike appears seconds later, moving toward the living room as quickly as his cane will allow.
Finn keeps one steady hand on Aiden’s arm as he helps him walk, and the moment Aiden sees his uncle, he offers him a reassuring smile.
Uncle Mike’s eyes shine with unshed tears.
Aiden reaches him and pulls him into a careful hug, holding him gently so he doesn’t lose his balance.
“I’m sorry,” Aiden murmurs. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Uncle Mike pats his back.
“Don’t apologize,” he says softly. “I’m just glad you’re home, my boy.”
Aiden doesn’t pull away right away. For a moment, he holds onto him, one arm wrapped carefully around his uncle’s shoulders while Uncle Mike’s hand grips the back of his jacket, both of them holding the embrace as if neither of them is quite ready to let go.
When they finally separate, Finn guides Aiden gently toward the couch closest to Uncle Mike’s favorite chair. Once he settles down, Aiden glances around the room.
“Where’s Skye?”
“He’s at Nathan’s,” I tell him. “With Houston and Neptune.”
He nods.
“Where can I find blankets?” I ask.
“The closet next to my room upstairs,” he answers. “But I’m okay.”
“You need blankets,” I tell him, already turning toward the stairs.
I head straight upstairs and walk down the short hallway until I reach the closet beside his bedroom. Inside, I find a thick fleece blanket and drape it over my arm.
When I close the closet door, I notice his bedroom door is ajar.
I look inside and notice his bed is still unmade.
I hesitate for only a moment before stepping inside.
It takes just a few minutes to straighten the sheets and pull the blankets neatly across the mattress, fluffing the pillows until everything looks the way I imagine he’ll want it once he’s ready to rest upstairs.
I look around for anything else I might be able to do for him, but everything is exactly where it’s meant to be.
I take the blanket and head back toward the stairs.
I’m halfway down when I hear Aiden’s voice from the living room.
“I was told it was you who rescued me.”
I stop in place.
There’s a brief pause before Finn finally answers.
“Aye.”
Aiden speaks again.