Chapter 17
Chapter seventeen
Candace
Footsteps thundered down the hall.
Damien burst through the door, tie loosened, breath ragged. His gaze went straight to the bed.
"Sebastian?"
"He's asleep," I said quickly, pushing myself up from the chair I'd collapsed into after the chaos. "He woke up—confused, panicked. Tried to rip out the intubation tube." I gestured to Sebastian's still form, peaceful now beneath the blankets. "They had to sedate him again."
Damien's shoulders sagged. He wiped the sweat from his brow and sank into the chair beside mine, elbows dropping to his knees.
"I should have been here."
Guilt creased the corners of his face. Honest and raw.
I smiled despite everything.
Emma really did find a good one.
"Don't beat yourself up," I tried. "He woke up confused—it didn't matter if it was me or you."
His eyes went glassy.
I stayed silent, the truth nowhere near a comfort. Scratches covered his neck and jaw where he'd clawed at himself, a small bandage near his throat from the worst of them.
Damien saw it too. A single tear slid down his cheek. He swiped it away, covering the moment with a cough.
"I'll give you two a moment alone," I announced, rising from my chair.
"Thanks," he croaked.
I slipped into the hallway, the door clicking softly behind me.
The fluorescent lights hummed overhead as I walked past the nurses' station, the family huddled in the corner with red-rimmed eyes.
By the time I reached the lobby, my legs barely held me. The adrenaline that had kept me upright for the past hour was finally draining away.
I pulled out my phone and dialed Emma.
She picked up on the first ring.
"How is he? Is Damien there? I'm so sorry I—"
"He's okay," I cut in. "Sedated again, but okay. Damien's with him now."
A shaky exhale came through the line. "Thank god."
"Where are you?"
"I couldn't come." Her voice was tight. Strained. "There was an emergency meeting. A board member needed to be present."
"And that someone had to be you?"
"I was the only one available." The words came out hollow. Bitter. "Damien wanted me to go with him, but I—" She stopped, voice beginning to tremble. "I had to stay."
I leaned against the cold lobby wall, phone pressed to my ear.
"Emma. Are you okay?"
Another pause. This one heavier.
"Is Damien okay?" Her voice came shaky.
"He's... holding it together. Barely." I glanced back toward the hallway I'd just left. "He's blaming himself for not being here when Sebastian woke up."
"Of course he is." A wet laugh came through the line. "That's so him."
"Emma." I kept my voice soft. "You didn't answer my question."
Silence stretched between us.
"I can't—" Her words faltered. "Not right now, okay? I just… I need to get through this meeting. And then I'll come straight there."
"Okay," I said quietly. "I'll be here."
"Thank you, Candace. For everything. I don't know what we'd do without you."
The line went dead.
I stared at the phone in my hand, unease prickled under my skin.
A blur of motion caught my attention.
A woman barreled past me—close enough that her shoulder clipped mine—and rushed toward the ICU entrance. Wild dark hair. Wrinkled clothes. A surgical mask stretched across her face, doing little to muffle the desperation in her voice.
"I'm here to see my son!" She slammed her palm against the intercom button. "Sebastian Holt. He's awake—I got a call—please, I need to see him!"
The speaker crackled. "One moment."
I stepped forward without thinking. "Mrs. Holt?"
She whipped around, eyes red-rimmed and wild.
"I'm Candace," I said gently. "Emma's friend."
Tears lined her eyes as she pulled me into a tight hug, planting a mask-covered kiss to each of my cheeks. "Il mio angelo fortunato."
The doors swung open and she grabbed my hand, dragging me along at breakneck speed.
"Sebastian?" She rounded the corner fast, just like Damien had.
He stood, wrapping his arms around her.
"He's still asleep," he said softly. "They sedated him again. Mom, you shouldn't even be here—you're still sick."
She ignored him, hand finding her mouth, as she pulled from Damien's arms—attention fixed on Sebastian. "Figlio mio," she whispered, taking his hand in hers. Then softer, "Figlio mio," as she settled into her chair.
Damien turned to me. "Thank you again."
"Anytime," I said, turning toward the door.
"Have a seat, dear."
Rosie's muffled voice stopped me in my tracks.
She didn't look up from Sebastian, her hand still wrapped around his. But the words were unmistakably meant for me.
I hesitated, locking eyes with Damien. This was their moment. Their family. I was just the friend who'd happened to get caught in the crossfire.
He answered with a small smile, so I pulled up a chair beside her and sat, watching for any other small movement.
She turned to me, eyes teary. "Thank you for staying with him."
"Of course." I smiled at her, trying to inject some light into the room. "I'm glad I could help."
"You're such a good friend. Jumping to Emma's aid like this." She sighed. "There aren't a lot of people who would do that."
"She's my sister, not just a friend," I said quickly, then paused to explain. "We've been inseparable for almost thirty years."
Her gaze warmed. "I like you even more now."
We shared a moment.
"You know that girl's going to be my daughter-in-law, right?"
Damien's head snapped up from his phone, where he'd been updating Emma no doubt. "Really, Mom?"
She shrugged. "It's true."
"You've seriously got to cut it out though," he laughed. "Emma nearly had a stroke the first time you—"
"Are you going to propose?" I cut in, voice too loud for the room.
Damien shook his head, laughing quietly. "No. My mom's just overzealous."
"Hush," she admonished, before turning her attention back to Sebastian.
The room settled, attention returning to the bed.
Eventually—a movement—a tiny twitch like before.
Damien rushed to the bed.
Rosie leaned forward, voice breaking. "Sebastian?"
A grumble came from him, followed by a tiny cough.
Minutes passed. Then his eyes fluttered open.
This time there was no panic. No clawing. Just a slow, heavy blink as he tried to focus on the faces hovering above him.
His gaze landed on his mother.
"Mom?"
The word came out barely louder than a whisper, shredded from the tube they'd pulled hours ago.
But it was enough.
She let out a sob and lunged forward, mask still stretched across her face, gathering him into her arms as carefully as she could manage with the wires and monitors still attached. "Oh thank god. My baby."
Sebastian winced but didn't pull away. His hand came up—slow, trembling—and rested against her back.
"I'm okay, Mom."
"It's nice to see you again," Damien's voice came from behind me, thick with emotion.
Sebastian smiled. "I owe you an—"
His mother cut him off, hands fluttering over his face like she needed to touch every inch of him to believe he was real. "How do you feel? Are you in pain? Do you need the nurse? I can get the nurse—"
"I'm okay," he repeated, voice still raw. A ghost of a smile tugged at his cracked lips. "Throat hurts. Head's foggy." He paused, brow furrowing like he was trying to piece something together. "I had the strangest dream."
Damien stepped closer, hand gripping the bed rail. "What kind of dream?"
Sebastian's gaze drifted—unfocused, searching the room.
"An angel came to see me." His voice was barely a rasp now.
"She had the prettiest voice," he murmured, eyes still scanning.
His eyes found mine. And stayed.
"Who are you?"
I stopped breathing.
"That's Candace, Emma's friend," Damien explained.
His brother turned, searching his face.
"Emma?" His brow furrowed. "I… don't—"
A low chuckle from Damien. "My girlfriend."
"Girlfriend?" Sebastian's tired eyes widened by a millimeter.
Damien nodded. Sebastian closed his eyes. "Good for you, man."
"I'm glad you're okay," I said quietly.
His eyes flew wide.
And suddenly the room felt very, very small.