Chapter Seventy Ella
Chapter Seventy
Ella
Icling to the doorframe, needing the solid edge beneath my fingertips. The world seems slightly off-kilter, like it’s tilted just enough that I might slide right off if I’m not careful.
Everything inside me tingles. My skin, my chest, my limbs. Even with my grip on the wood, I’m swaying.
Do I let myself go down this path of hope?
It feels dangerous, like stepping onto ice that might not hold.
But everything seems to be nudging me in that direction anyway.
I look at Dr. Pro… no. Carter. I’ll call him Dr. Carter. Then my eyes find Claudette’s, who’s smiling at me with an expression that’s far too soft.
Finally, my gaze slides to Rhia. She looks nothing like Claudette. Her face is tense, her mouth drawn tight, her eyes fixed on me with apprehension.
“Tiero isn’t dead?”
The words finally leave my mouth, sounding fragile, as though they might shatter the second they’re spoken.
For a heartbeat, the room seems to hold its breath with me.
As soon as I say it, my legs threaten to give way, my knees buckling as if my body has decided before my mind can catch up.
Dr. Carter’s expression doesn’t waver.
“No,” he says gently. “Your fiancé is alive.”
The world drops out from under me. My feet slide, my strength evaporating all at once.
I sink to the floor, my good hand flying to my face as a sob tears free of my chest. Tears stream down my cheeks, unstoppable, blinding.
My heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might burst, echoing wildly in my ears.
“He’s not dead,” I whisper, as if saying it again will make it more real.
I barely register Claudette and Rhia dropping down beside me, arms wrapping around my shoulders, grounding me as my body shakes.
“But I saw him die,” I manage, lifting my head just enough to look at Dr. Carter. “I watched you try to revive him. The heart monitors… the alarms…”
The memory flashes sharp and brutal, as vivid as it was this morning.
“It was all an act,” he says quietly.
The words don’t make sense.
“What?” I breathe. “That was one hell of an act. Everyone believed it.”
Especially me.
He holds my gaze. “That was the point.”
Rhia’s grip tightens around me.
“El,” she says softly, her voice breaking. “I’m so sorry. I know what we put you through was horrific. Watching you grieve like that… it nearly broke me.”
I turn my head toward her. Her eyes are glossy, her expression raw and unguarded in a way I’ve never seen before.
“I couldn’t tell you,” she goes on, shaking her head. “Not then. But I am so, so sorry.”
I nod, barely aware of the movement. Right now, I don’t have room for anything else.
If Tiero is alive, nothing else matters.
Nothing.
Dr. Carter clears his throat gently, drawing my attention back to him.
“Your fiancé’s condition improved overnight,” he explains. “He was stable at the time we staged his death. Still unconscious, but strong. He’s been fighting his way back.”
I wipe at my tears, trying to clear my vision.
“I want to see him,” I say, the words tumbling out before anyone can stop me. “Please.”
“Of course,” Dr. Carter replies. “I’ll take you to him.”
I push myself to my feet, legs trembling, shrugging out of my jacket and dropping it onto the nearest chair as if it’s suddenly too heavy. Claudette moves to one side of me, careful with my injured arm, while Rhia stays close on the other.
I’m not sure I could walk without them.
“He hasn’t woken up yet,” Dr. Carter says as we move down the corridor. “We’ve kept him sedated while his body recovers. We’re easing off the medication now. He should wake soon.”
My heart stutters at the word soon.
By the time we reach the room, I’m lightheaded again, breath coming too fast.
Dr. Carter opens the door.
The steady, familiar beep of machines fills the air.
I feel like fainting. I close my eyes for a brief second, needing a moment.
With a deep inhale, I step into the room.
I let my eyes adjust to the dim lighting.
And there he is.
My love.
I forget how to breathe.
Lying in a hospital bed, pale but unmistakably real. Tubes and wires trail from his body, fewer than before, but enough to make my stomach drop.
My hand flies to my mouth, a sob catching in my throat as my eyes drink him in, terrified that if I blink, he’ll disappear.
“Tiero,” I whisper.
It’s really him.
I’m not dreaming.
He’s alive. The beeping of the heart monitor by the side of the bed is my proof.
Relief crashes over me in a tidal wave, so overwhelming it leaves me breathless. Tears spill freely as I rush to his bedside, collapsing into the chair beside him.
“I thought I’d lost you,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “I thought you were gone forever.”
Leaning down, I press my lips softly to his. The kiss is trembling, reverent, as if touching him too firmly might break the spell.
Nothing else exists in this moment.
Not my friend’s deception. Not the fear. Not the pain.
Only this.
I take his hand in mine, squeezing gently, feeling the warmth of his skin.
Then I find his pulse.
Strong. Steady.
The most beautiful sensation I’ve ever known.
Half an hour ago, my future had felt like a void. Cold and empty.
Now it stretches out in front of me again, bright and full of possibility.
Mine and Tiero’s.