48. Dorian - November
FORTY-EIGHT
Dorian - November
IRIS - GRACE DAVIES
My body felt heavy, my leg was throbbing, and the pull of sleep still tried to drag me under.
I blinked, trying to understand where I was. There was constant beeping as blurry shapes around me came slowly into focus.
Then I remembered. Everything.
John. The gun shot. The call. Noah.
Looking next to my bed, I saw Gracie curled up on a chair, tucked into Noah’s lap. Her face was pressed against Noah’s chest, her hair tangled, eyes puffy. Noah’s head was tilted back against the chair, her mouth slightly open, her arms protectively wrapped around Gracie.
For a moment, I didn’t move. I only watched them.
Gracie stirred as she stretched her arms. She opened her eyes, squinting at the harsh light, and then stopped. Her gaze locked on mine.
“Daddy?” Her voice cracked, and it hit me like a freight train. Her lip wobbled as realization set in, and tears filled her eyes. “Daddy!” she cried again, scrambling off Noah’s lap.
Her sudden movement jolted Noah awake, her body tensing as her eyes shot open. She blinked, her gaze darting from Gracie to me. And then she froze.
Gracie was already climbing onto the edge of the bed, her little hands gripping mine like she was afraid I might disappear. She was sobbing now, hiccupping between gasps, her tears falling onto my hospital gown.
Noah’s chair scraped back as she stood, her hands trembling as she pressed them to her mouth. Her eyes were wide, shining with relief.
“You’re awake,” she finally managed.
I nodded weakly, lifting my hand to touch Gracie’s hair. “It’s okay, Gracie. I’m alright,” I murmured, my throat dry and scratchy.
Gracie buried her face against me, her sobs muffled, and I felt the tight band of fear finally loosen.
Noah moved closer, brushing a strand of my hair from my forehead reassuringly.
Gracie’s cries began to quiet, her tiny hand clutching mine tightly. “Don’t ever go away ever again, Daddy,” she whispered.
“I won’t,” I promised. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The door opened moments later, and a nurse walked in, followed by a doctor.
“Well, look who’s awake,” a voice said, warm and light, drawing my attention as the doctor stepped to my bedside. “How are you feeling, Dr. James?”
I groaned, the sound rough and dry. “Like my leg got run over by a truck.”
I felt someone move, and I realized it was Noah reaching to hold Gracie’s hand. The nurse adjusted the IV in my arm while the doctor checked my vitals.
“You’re a lucky man,” she said. “You lost a lot of blood. The bullet went clean through, but it nicked the artery, which made things worse. We managed to stop the bleeding, but it fractured your femur. We inserted a rod during surgery to stabilize it. You’re going to need a lot of time to heal, and physical therapy will be crucial.”
I tried moving, but pain shot through my leg, making me wince. “How long?”
“A few months, at least,” the doctor replied. “Full mobility will depend on your commitment to physical therapy. For now, you can’t put any weight on that leg for at least six weeks. After that, we’ll reassess.”
I let out a long breath and sank back into the pillow. “Great,” I muttered. “So, no walking?”
“Not for a while,” she said, her tone soft. “You’ll be in a wheelchair at first, then progress to crutches. It’ll take patience, but with the way things went, you’re in good shape.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Patience, huh?”
“Yeah,” she said. “It’s going to be a bit of a process.”
I glanced over at Gracie. She hadn’t taken her eyes off me, still holding my hand like she was afraid to let go. I hated seeing that look on her face.
“Will Daddy be able to play with me again?” she asked, her voice small but full of hope.
The doctor smiled at her, kneeling slightly to meet her eyes. “Of course, sweetie. It’s going to take some time, but he’s a tough guy. He’ll be back on his feet before you know it.”
Gracie looked at me, her lip quivering. “You promise, Daddy?”
My hand squeezed hers. “I promise, kiddo.”
She gave a little laugh, but it was shaky, like she was holding back tears.
“What happens next?” Noah asked.
“For now, we monitor him for any signs of infection or complications,” the doctor replied. “Once he’s in the clear, we’ll discharge him with a recovery plan and follow-up appointments. Physical therapy starts in a few weeks. But his main job right now is rest.”
“Are you in pain?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I admitted.
“We’ve got you on meds to keep it manageable, but I’ll up your dose,” the doctor said. “But we’ll need to transition to lighter meds soon. We need to find the right balance so you can start moving when it’s time.”
I clenched my jaw, already hating the idea of being dependent on anyone. The nurse gave me a small, understanding smile. “You’re healing. Let others take care of you for a while.”
She glanced at Noah. “You’ve got a solid support system here. Lean on them.”
“Any questions?” the doctor asked, her tone encouraging.
I shook my head, feeling the exhaustion catching up to me. “Not now.”
“Alright,” she said, nodding. “The nurse will be back shortly to check on you. Get some rest.” She gave me one last smile before leaving with the nurse.
The door shut, and the room fell quiet. Gracie leaned closer to me, brushing her little hand across my arm. “You scared me, Daddy,” she said.
My heart ached. I knew I’d scared her. Hell, I’d scared myself.
“I know, G. I’m sorry. But I’m here now.”
Noah stayed close, hovering near the bed. Her eyes were on me, but she didn’t say anything at first. I met her gaze and saw the tension in her face, the concern that never really seemed to leave her.
“You okay?” I asked, my voice still a little rough.
She blinked, clearly startled. “You’re the one in the hospital bed.”
“Still,” I said, giving her the faintest smirk. “What… happened?”
Gracie looked from me to Noah, her eyes wide, curiosity lighting up her face.
Noah let out a weak laugh, shaking her head. “We’ll talk about that later. Right now, you need to focus on getting better.”
“You mean letting you two boss me around?” I said, feeling a small, painful grin tug at my lips even as I winced.
“Exactly,” she said, her tone light but with an edge of affection. “Get used to it.”
Gracie giggled, the sound of it making the heaviness of everything feel a little less suffocating.
For the first time since the chaos in the tunnel, I felt like I could breathe again.
The door creaked open, and I lifted my head, my neck stiff. My dad stepped inside, so quietly as if he was trying not to disturb the fragile peace of the room. He glanced at Gracie first, then at me, and his breath caught, something heavy in his exhale.
“It’s damn good to see you, son,” he muttered, and the words hit me in a way I wasn’t ready for. I wanted to say something, but my throat felt tight, and nothing seemed enough.
“Let me take her back to the hotel. You need to rest, Dorian,” he said, slowly walking toward Gracie, who was now curled up in Noah’s lap. He picked her up, cradling her small body like a precious piece of glass.
His eyes met mine, and I could see the concern etched on his face, the worry that had been there for hours, days maybe.
I nodded slowly. “Thanks. I love you, Dad.”
His expression softened, and he stepped closer, gently rocking Gracie in his arms. “I love you too, bud. Keep that one, will ya?” he replied, nodding toward Noah before walking out of the room.
I grinned. “I think I will.”
Noah stirred, a small sound escaping her lips as she rubbed her eyes, still caught in the haze of sleep. She blinked a few times, then turned toward me, her movements slow and disoriented. The moment our eyes met, she let out a a sharp inhale, as if she momentarily forgot I was still here and was just now starting to process it all over again.
I let out a shaky breath. “Hey,” I murmured.
Her lips parted, and for a second, she stared at me, as if checking to make sure I was real. She shook her head slowly, blinking hard, like she was trying to keep it together, still on the edge of disbelief.
"I thought you were gone," she whispered. "I thought we lost you." She stepped to the edge of the bed.
“You didn’t. I’m here.” I tried to reach for her, my hand trembling as I moved it closer, but she was already squeezing my fingers, like she was trying to ground herself in the moment.
"But we almost did.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, but she swallowed and continued.
“I know, peach. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of that. Anything I said to him was all a ploy to get you and Gracie out of danger,” I said.
“I know. I trust you.”
She leaned down, moving a section of hair away from my brow. My eyes fluttered shut at her touch.
"For so long, it felt like John had taken everything from me—my safety, my choices, my peace. He stole the way I looked at the world, made me second-guess every good thing, every good person. And then, when I finally found someone who gave all of that back to me, he tried to take you too."
I let her words hang in the air for a moment, my heart tightening at the raw pain in her voice.
She exhaled, her gaze locking onto mine. "You told me you’d find me in every universe, even if it meant standing back and watching. But I wouldn’t. I’d spend every lifetime searching for you, in every world, in every moment, but I would never stand by and watch. We were never meant to stand at the edges of each other’s lives, Dorian. We were always meant to find each other.”
Her voice quivered as she spoke, and her gaze, so intense and unwavering, burned into mine. She looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.
“And I refuse to accept a single universe where I don’t get to spend every possible moment with you and Gracie. So you don’t have to find me, Dorian. You already have.”
She sat on the edge of the bed, placing her hand on my chest.
“I’ve spent so much time running from everything, from what I feel, from what we are,” I began, my voice rough. “I told myself I could do it alone, that I could protect everyone, protect myself, by keeping my distance. But I was wrong. You’ve always been a part of me, even when I didn’t know how to accept it.” I took a deep breath, steadying myself as I looked into her eyes. “But I know now. You were never a choice. I was scared, afraid of what would happen if I let myself believe this—believe in us. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t need you.”
I squeezed her hand that sat over my chest, trying to convey every ounce of emotion I was feeling, all the years of pain, fear, and longing.
“I need you in every way, in every part of my soul. I love you, Noah. I love you in a way I never thought I could. You’re not just a part of my life—you’re the one I was meant to find, the one I was meant to hold onto. There’s no world, no universe, where I don’t choose you.”
Her eyes softened, and the words slipped out, almost like a release. “I love you.”
I didn’t think I could feel more vulnerable than I already did, but hearing those words from her—finally—was like a balm to all the raw places inside me. I held her gaze, my heart racing, and without thinking, I whispered back, “I think I’ve always loved you.”
The moment hung between us, like we had both just stepped into a new reality where nothing could tear us apart. She leaned down then, brushing her lips softly against mine—a fleeting, gentle kiss that left a lingering warmth on my skin.
She pulled away. “There’s still something we need to talk about,” she said, her voice quieter now, guarded.
I sat up slightly, my brow furrowing. “Yeah… I know. Can you tell me what happened?”
Her eyes flickered to the side, as if she was carefully choosing her next words, weighing how much to reveal.
“Please,” I added, my voice low but insistent. “I need to know.”
She hesitated, her fingers grazing the edge of my hand. “John’s in custody,” she finally said, her words like stones sinking into still water. “He wanted to get caught.”
The ground felt like it moved beneath me. “Why? Why would he do that?”
Noah stood, her posture tense, like she was trying to make sense of it all herself. She turned toward the window, her back to me. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I just—I don’t know. He’s playing some kind of game, Dorian. I need to figure out why.”
She was searching for answers, the same way I was. But there was something else. She needed closure, needed to understand the part she played in all of it.
“You want to go visit him?” I asked before I could stop myself.
She didn’t answer right away, but I saw the way her body stiffened, the way her fingers curled into fists. “Yeah, I do.”
I didn’t like it. Not one bit. The idea of her facing him again—of her stepping into his world even for a second—made something cold and ugly twist in my gut. But I understood. She needed to know why, needed to face it head-on, even if I wanted to lock her away from him, away from all of it.
“When we were in the tunnels, before… before I got shot.” I paused, trying to steady my breath, still shaky from the memory. “He said you were the reason he did all of this. That you could have stopped him.”
Noah was silent for a long moment. I could see her eyes closing, as if the words were a blow she’d been expecting but hadn’t fully prepared for. When she spoke, it was almost like she was talking to herself. “Yeah, I know…” Her voice faltered for a second. “Ellie told me.”
I wanted to reach for her again, to pull her close, to shield her from all of it. But instead, I sat still, waiting for her to continue.
“Noah…” I started, my voice filled with the warning I wasn’t sure how to say.
“I need to do this,” she interrupted, shaking her head, determination set in her eyes. “I need answers.”
I inhaled deeply, my jaw tightening, my heart heavy with the weight of it all. “Okay,” I said finally, my voice thick with the words I didn’t want to speak. “It’s your choice. I’ll support you. But you don’t have to do this alone.”
She squeezed my hand, her touch grounding me in a way I wasn’t expecting. “I’m not doing this alone,” she whispered, her words a promise. “Not anymore.”