Chapter 42 Alex
ALEX
I jolt awake, chest heaving rapidly, heart pounding so hard it feels like it’s trying to break free from my ribcage.
Both my hands are clenching the sheets and my shirt is damp with sweat.
My eyes dart around the dark room frantically searching for her, my mind still tangled in the nightmare that’s been haunting me for weeks.
Emma.
Collapsing in my arms.
Limp and unresponsive.
Dead.
I scrub a shaky hand down my face, trying to pull myself out of it.
It wasn’t real.
She’s here.
She’s okay.
I finally sigh with relief when I find her lying beside me, peaceful, safe.
Emma breathes in and out in steady, even rhythms. She looks so beautiful like this, so alive.
I should be grateful. I am grateful. But that doesn’t stop the fear from choking me, sinking its claws into my chest and refusing to let go. I swallow hard, pressing a fist to my sternum like I can physically shove down the panic clawing its way up my throat.
She stirs beside me, shifting slightly, and then, in the quietest, sleep-laced voice, she mumbles, “Alex?”
I freeze.
Her eyes flutter open, hazy with sleep, and she frowns. “What’s wrong?”
I force a breath, schooling my face into something neutral. “Nothing,” I lie. “Go back to sleep, mi cielo.”
She doesn’t buy it for a second. Instead, she pushes herself up on one elbow, and analyzes me before asking, “You had another nightmare, didn’t you?”
I flinch and she sighs like that was confirmation enough.
“I know you’ve been having them. I first noticed it in the hospital and now it’s been happening every night since we’ve been home.”
I turn my head away from her. I don’t want to do this.
I don’t want to put this on her. She’s been through enough.
Hell, she’s still going through enough. She doesn’t need to deal with me losing my mind at two in the damn morning.
But she’s waiting for me to respond, looking at me with those soft, knowing eyes that strip me down until there’s nothing left to hide.
I exhale sharply, dragging both hands through my hair. “I’m scared,” I admit. “I’m scared that if I let go for even a second, something bad will happen.”
Emma’s quiet for a beat. Then, without hesitation, she shifts closer, reaching for me. Her fingers find my forearm and I don’t realize I’m shaking until she steadies me.
“Alex,” she murmurs, her voice gentle. “I’m okay.”
I let out a humorless laugh, shaking my head.
“Yeah? Well, you weren’t. I watched you in a coma for an entire week, Emma.
You were dying right in front of me. I watched them shove a damn breathing tube down your throat.
I watched your heart fail you.” My voice cracks, and I force the words through gritted teeth.
“So forgive me if I don’t just bounce back like nothing happened. ”
“I don’t expect you to.”
She shifts again until she’s sitting up fully, her hand slipping into mine. I don’t even realize I’m gripping the sheets again until she pries my fingers loose and laces them with hers.
“It’s not your job to carry this weight alone,” she says quietly. “You don’t have to hold on so tight.”
I shake my head. “I do, Em. I have to.” The panic is still pressing against my ribs. “Because what if I let go and you—”
She squeezes my hand, cutting me off. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I exhale, long and shaky, and press my forehead against hers. “I should be taking care of you,” I whisper. “Not the other way around.”
She huffs a soft, sleepy laugh. “Says who?”
“Says me.”
“Well, I say that’s bullshit.”
I scoff, and she smiles, sleepily and sweet. “We can take care of each other, Alex. That’s how this works.”
I don’t deserve her.
I never have.
But I also know I can’t live without her.
So I do the only thing I can and wrap my arms around her, burying my face in the crook of her neck. Her heartbeat is steady against my face—a reminder that she’s here, she’s alive, and she’s mine.
And for the first time in weeks, I feel like maybe I can breathe again.