Chapter 25 - Lucy
Hospitals have a way of erasing time. Minutes stretch until they don’t feel real anymore, and hours pass without asking permission. Everything becomes measured in sounds instead: the distant beep of machines, the squeak of shoes on linoleum, the rustle of fabric when nurses move past.
Dr. Teller speaks calmly, deliberately, like someone who knows how to choose words when they matter.
I try to focus on him.
I really do.
But Julian is everywhere.
Not physically, he isn’t hovering, but somehow, he’s still present in every corner of the room. Like when the nurses defer without realizing they’re doing it. How things are already happening before I’ve even finished asking questions.
Dr. Teller explains that tonight’s collapse was likely linked to a severe flare, autoimmune complications layered on exhaustion and dehydration, and possibly cardiac involvement. They won’t know more until the tests are complete. MRI. Blood panels. Monitoring.
Nothing definitive yet.
Which somehow makes it worse.
They come in with a gurney to take my mom for imaging.
I lean down and press my forehead gently to hers. Her skin feels cool. Fragile.
“I love you mom,” I whisper, even though she isn’t awake. “I’ll be right here.”
They wheel her out, and suddenly I don’t know where to stand or what to do next.
A nurse explains that once testing is complete, they’ll be moving my mom to a private room in a specialized unit.
My stomach drops.
“A private room?” I ask. “I... I don’t think... is that covered? She’s been here before, and...”
The nurse smiles kindly. “Your insurance won’t be covering this portion.”
I can feel the panic bubbling up within me.
“I don’t understand,” I say, the panic crawling up my throat. “Why would she be moved if it’s not...”
“It’s being taken care of,” the nurse says gently. “You don’t need to worry.”
I laugh, a short, brittle sound. “That’s not really how this works. It is my job to worry, to know what is going on. You can't just make choices like that without my approval.”
Julian places his hands on my shoulders, firm and steady.
“Lucy,” he says quietly. “Look at me.”
I don’t want to.
I really don’t.
But my body responds before my pride can intervene.
I lift my head, and his steel-grey eyes hold mine, unflinching, grounded, almost fierce in their certainty.
“Breathe. I have it,” he says. “I have you.”
I need to blink back tears that I refuse to let fall.
“I’m going to make sure your mother is taken care of,” he continues. “And you. And your sister.”
I shake my head. “I can’t... Julian, I don’t want to owe you this. I could never repay...”
He reaches up and tucks a loose curl behind my ear.
The gentleness of it steals my breath.
“This isn’t about owing,” he says quietly. “And you don’t have to decide anything tonight. That's not what this is about. Let me help you.”
For a second, I just stare at him. At the man who left me at a gala table full of strangers. At the man standing in front of me, now, like the ground under my feet won’t give out if I lean on him. He is standing here, telling me he will hold me up and catch me if I fall.
But how do I believe that, trust him?
I close my eyes.
“I don’t know how to do this,” I whisper.
“You don’t have to,” he says. “I do.”
They take my mom for tests.
A nurse leads us down a hallway I’ve never been allowed into before. Emily follows behind us, a curious look on her face.
I know what that look says, and I am in no way prepared to address it with her. I am just as confused as she is.
The room they brought us to doesn’t look like a hospital. It looks like a hotel suite that has somehow ended up with medical equipment.
Gentle lighting. A seating area. A private bathroom bigger than my entire kitchen.
I feel dizzy.
Claire arrives not long after, carrying bags.
Shopping bags.
Emily stares. “How did you... it’s... It’s past midnight.”
Claire smiles faintly. “Money tends to bend time.”
Emily snorts. “Yeah. Sure seems to.”
Claire turns to me. “How are you holding up?”
“I don’t know,” I say honestly.
“That’s acceptable,” she replies. “Julian wants you both taken care of. Let me know what you need.”
“I don’t need...”
“Lucy hasn’t eaten,” Emily cuts in. “And she’d probably cry if someone handed her a latte.”
Claire nods. “I’ll take care of that.”
Emily beams. “I love her.”
Claire continues talking with Emily, but I feel overwhelmed, so I tune it out and retreat to the bathroom.
It’s absurdly beautiful.
I open the bags. Inside are sweater-and-pant sets that look like sleepwear designed by someone who understands exhaustion. Slippers lined with something that feels like clouds. Toiletries. Makeup remover.
Everything screams care.
I wash my face.
Let my hair fall free.
Change into the soft clothes.
I don’t recognize the woman in the mirror.
She looks tired.
When I step back into the room, Julian is standing near the window.
He turns and freezes.
His gaze moves over me slowly, like he’s seeing something he didn’t expect.
Something unguarded.
I feel suddenly exposed.
“I’m not... I just...” I start.
His long legs eat the space between us. He steps closer. Too close. I am instantly enveloped in his scent. His hand cups my jaw.
Not possession.
Not control.
Just… grounding.
He opens his mouth to say something... and then Dr. Teller walks in.
“I have some preliminary results,” he says.
Julian steps back immediately.
The room shifts. I close my eyes for a moment to center myself, and then I focus.
Dr. Teller explains the plan. Medication adjustments. Monitoring. A path forward that includes treatment I’ve only ever read about.
Hope flares bright.
Real, terrifying hope.
And even when Julian isn’t speaking, I feel him there.
Like gravity.
As if something has irrevocably changed, not because of money, contracts, or arrangements.
But because when everything fell apart, he didn’t disappear, he showed up.