Chapter 24 Mila
Mila
Location: Military Hospital — Recovery Wing
Time: Unknown
The machines won’t stop beeping.
Soft.
Steady.
Too steady.
Like nothing happened.
Like he’s not lying there—
burning up with fever.
Fighting something I can’t see.
I sit beside his bed.
Haven’t moved in hours.
Maybe longer.
I don’t even know anymore.
Time feels… irrelevant here.
Like the world stopped the second they wheeled him through those doors.
“They said he’s stable.”
The doctor’s words echo in my head.
Stable.
I hate that word.
Because stable doesn’t mean safe.
It doesn’t mean he’s okay.
It doesn’t mean he’s coming back to me.
I lean forward slightly.
Careful.
Like I’m afraid even breathing too hard might break something.
My hand finds his.
Still too warm.
Way too warm.
“You scared me,” I whisper.
My voice barely makes it out.
He doesn’t move.
Doesn’t respond.
But I keep talking anyway.
Because I don’t know how to sit here in silence.
Not with everything sitting in my chest like this.
“You weren’t supposed to go down,” I say softly.
“That wasn’t the plan.”
A shaky breath escapes me.
“You’re the one who keeps standing, remember?
I swallow hard.
Blinking back the sting behind my eyes.
“I was the one who was supposed to slow you down… not the other way around.”
My thumb brushes lightly over his hand.
Small.
Careful.
Like I’m memorizing it.
“I didn’t leave,” I whisper.
The words come out before I can stop them.
“I could’ve… but I didn’t.”
My throat tightens.
“I stayed.”
A beat.
Then softer—
“I always stay.”
The room feels too quiet.
Too still.
Too full of things I’m not saying.
“I don’t know what this is,” I admit.
And that right there?
That’s the truth.
The one I’ve been avoiding.
The one I didn’t want to name.
Didn’t want to feel.
Didn’t want to—
need.
“But I know it’s not just the mission.”
My voice shakes now.
Just slightly.
Enough to feel it.
“Because I’ve been in bad situations before.”
Worse than this.
Harder than this.
Colder than this.
“And I’ve never…”
I stop.
Because I can’t say it.
Not fully.
Not out loud.
I lean closer.
Rest my forehead lightly against his hand.
Close my eyes.
Just for a second.
“I’ve never been afraid like that,” I whisper.
There it is.
Not love.
Not yet.
But something just as powerful.
A tear slips free before I can stop it.
I don’t wipe it away.
I don’t move.
“You don’t get to leave me,” I say softly.
Not angry.
Not sharp.
Just…
honest.
Jase (semi-conscious)
Dark.
Heat.
Noise somewhere far away.
But then—
her voice.
Soft.
Close.
Real.
“I stayed…”
The words reach through the haze.
Anchor.
Pull.
Fight.
My fingers twitch slightly.
Just enough to feel her.
Just enough to—
hold on.
Mila
I freeze.
My head lifts instantly.
“Jase?”
Nothing.
No response.
No movement.
Just…that tiny shift I’m not even sure was real.
My heart pounds.
Hope surges too fast.
Too strong.
“Hey… hey, I’m here,” I say quickly, squeezing his hand.
“You’re okay. You made it. You’re—”
My voice breaks.
I stop.
Breathe.
Try again.
“You’re not getting rid of me that easy.”
Silence.
Again.
But it feels different now.
Like he’s closer.
Like he’s—
fighting.
I lean back in the chair.
Still holding his hand.
Still not letting go.
“I should probably let you rest,” I whisper.
But I don’t move.
Don’t stand.
Don’t leave.
“I’ll be here when you wake up.”
A promise.
A quiet one.
But real.
And for a moment—
everything feels…
okay.
The Knock
A soft knock breaks the silence.
I stiffen.
Turn.
The door opens slowly.
One of the Delta Five operators steps inside.
Expression tight.
Serious.
Too serious.
My stomach drops instantly.
“We need to talk,” he says.
I look back at Jase.
At his hand still in mine.
At the rise and fall of his chest.
At the heat that hasn’t gone away.
“…now?” I ask quietly.
He nods once.
“Now.”
I don’t want to let go.
I don’t want to move.
I don’t want to leave him.
Not like this.
Not when he—
But something in the man’s expression tells me:
This isn’t optional.
I look back at Jase one last time.
My chest tight.
My hand tightening around his.
Just for a second.
“I’ll be right back,” I whisper.
Soft.
Certain.
Like I believe it.
Like it’s true.
I gently place his hand back on the bed.
Careful.
Like he might feel it.
Then I stand.
Turn.
And walk out the door.
The moment it closes behind me—
everything changes.