57. Olivia
Olivia
The room feels different this time.
Not empty.
Not uncertain.
Full.
Even before he steps inside.
I feel him.
The door opens quietly—
And Russ walks back in.
Slower than before.
Not rushing.
Not on edge.
But not relaxed either.
I can see it in the way his shoulders still hold tension.
In the way his eyes immediately find me—
Like he needs to.
Like he has to make sure I’m still here.
“I heard,” I say softly.
His steps pause.
Just for a second.
Then he moves closer.
“How much?” he asks.
“Enough.”
His jaw tightens slightly.
He doesn’t ask me to explain.
Doesn’t try to soften it.
He knows exactly what I mean.
“How is he?” I ask.
Because I need to hear it from him.
“He’s stable.”
The word settles into my chest—
Carefully.
Cautiously.
“Hannan didn’t let him go,” he adds.
That doesn’t surprise me.
“She wouldn’t,” I whisper.
His gaze lingers on me for a moment.
Like he’s seeing something different now.
Like he’s trying to figure something out.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “She wouldn’t.”
Silence stretches between us.
But it’s not uncomfortable.
Not anymore.
Just… full.
I shift slightly in the bed, ignoring the pull of pain this time.
Because there’s something else pressing stronger.
Something I don’t want to leave unsaid.
“You meant it,” I say.
Not a question.
Not really.
His eyes lock onto mine.
Instantly.
“I don’t say things like that if I don’t.”
My breath catches.
Because I knew that.
But hearing it—
That’s different.
That’s real.
“That’s what I thought,” I admit softly.
His gaze drops briefly to our hands—
Then back to me.
Like he’s deciding something.
Like he’s stepping over a line he doesn’t usually cross.
“You don’t have to figure anything out right now,” he says.
That surprises me.
“Most people would say the opposite.”
“I’m not most people.”
No.
He’s not.
That’s becoming very clear.
His hand moves again—
Covering mine.
Warm.
Steady.
Grounding.
“But I’m not walking away from this either,” he adds.
My chest tightens.
Not with fear.
With something else.
Something deeper.
“I don’t want you to,” I whisper.
There it is.
Out in the open.
No taking it back now.
Something shifts in his expression.
Not shock.
Not doubt.
Something… steadier.
Like he needed to hear that.
His thumb brushes lightly against my hand.
Slow.
Intentional.
“You sure?” he asks.
It’s not teasing.
Not light.
It’s real.
Because he knows what this means.
What his life is.
What comes with him.
I hold his gaze.
And don’t hesitate.
“Yes.”
The word is quiet.
But it lands hard.
Because I mean it.
All of it.
The danger.
The uncertainty.
The fact that he will walk back into situations like that again—
Without hesitation.
I understand it now.
And somehow—
That doesn’t push me away.
It pulls me closer.
His jaw tightens slightly.
Like he’s holding something back.
Something big.
“You say that now,” he murmurs.
“I’ll say it later too.”
That gets a reaction.
A real one.
His eyes sharpen slightly.
Searching mine.
Like he’s trying to find doubt.
Fear.
Anything that would make this easier to walk away from.
He won’t find it.
Because it’s not there.
“I grew up watching my parents love each other like that,” I tell him softly.
The words come easier than I expect.
“Through everything. Through fear. Through loss. Through uncertainty.”
His expression shifts again.
This time—deeper.
“They never ran from it,” I continue. “They chose it. Every time.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Important.
“And you think this is that?” he asks.
I don’t look away.
“I think it could be.”
That’s all I give him.
Not forever.
Not promises I can’t guarantee.
But possibility.
Real.
Honest.
And enough.
His hand tightens around mine.
Just slightly.
But I feel it.
“Yeah,” he says quietly.
Like he’s accepting something.
Like he’s stepping into it.
Like he knows there’s no going back now.
“Yeah,” he repeats.
And for a moment—
Everything else fades.
The war.
The danger.
The uncertainty.
All of it.
Because right here—
With him standing beside me—
With his hand still holding mine—
It feels steady.
Real.
Worth it.
A knock sounds softly at the door.
We both look up.
Neither of us moves right away.
Because neither of us wants to break this moment.
But reality doesn’t wait.
It never does.
“Come in,” Russ calls.
The door opens—
A medic steps inside.
“Doctor Taylor,” he says gently, “we’ll need to run a few more tests.”
I nod.
“Of course.”
He hesitates, glancing briefly at Russ.
Then back at me.
“They’re also moving the Delta Force team member to recovery,” he adds. “He’s asking for limited visitors once he’s fully awake.”
My gaze flicks back to Russ.
A silent question.
He nods once.
“He made it,” he says.
Relief floods through me.
Strong enough that it almost steals my breath.
“Good,” I whisper.
More than good.
Everything.
The medic steps back out.
The door closes again.
And just like that—
The world comes rushing back.
But something’s changed.
Something solid.
Something real.
I look back at Russ.
And this time—
I don’t hesitate.
I don’t second guess.
I don’t pull away.
Because whatever this is—
It’s not going anywhere.
And neither am I.