The hospital room was bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, casting long shadows across the sterile white walls.
The beeping of the monitors had become a dull hum in my ears, a constant reminder that I was still here, still breathing, even if my heart felt like it had been through a shredder.
My wrist ached under its cast, a steady throb that matched the dull pain in my head, but I barely noticed it anymore.
Three days unconscious, and now I was awake since last night, surrounded by the people I loved most... Mom and Kai. Yet all I could think about was the one person I didn’t want anywhere near me.
It was late, the clock on the wall ticking past 7 PM, when the door creaked open. My stomach flipped before I even looked up, some sixth sense kicking in, telling me who it was. Ethan.
His silhouette filled the doorway, tall and familiar, his dark hair slightly mussed from a long day, his suit jacket slung over one arm. In his other hand, he held a bouquet of flowers, white lilies and soft pink roses, their scent cutting through the antiseptic air like a whisper of something I used to crave.
Mom’s head snapped up from where she sat beside me, her tired eyes lighting with relief. “Ethan! Oh, thank goodness you’re here,” she said, standing to greet him with a warm smile that made my chest ache. She had no idea, no clue what he’d done to me.
Kai, sprawled in the chair by the window, glanced up from his phone, his grin lazy but genuine. “Hey, man. Took you long enough. Work keeping you chained up?”
Ethan stepped inside, his gaze flickering to me for a heartbeat before settling on Kai. “Yeah, something like that,” he said, his voice low, rough around the edges like he hadn’t slept in days. “Got here as soon as I could. You texted me the second she woke up, but I couldn’t get away until now.”
I stared at the blanket draped over my lap, my fingers twisting the edge until my knuckles turned white. He’d known I was awake since last night and still waited? Work, sure, but it felt like a dodge, like he was stalling. And now here he was, standing in my hospital room with flowers like some knight in shining armor, when all I could see was the guy who’d ripped my heart out and stomped on it.
Mom reached out, taking the bouquet from him with a soft laugh. “These are beautiful, Ethan. You didn’t have to do that.”
“For Aria,” he said, his voice catching just enough to make my breath hitch. “I… I’m just glad she’s okay.”
I forced my eyes up, meeting his, and it hit me like a tidal wave, his face. Those eyes, usually so steady, were shadowed with worry, the lines around them deeper, like he’d aged a decade in a week. His jaw was tight, his lips pressed into a thin line, but there was this raw relief in his gaze, like he’d been holding his breath for days and could finally let it out.
It was heart-fluttering, heart-warming, and heart-shattering all at once, and I hated how it made me feel soft, vulnerable, when all I wanted was to armor up and shut him out.
“Hey, Ethan,” I said, my voice cool, steady, like I hadn’t spent the last week crying over him. “Thanks for the flowers. They’re nice.”
Mom and Kai didn’t catch the edge in my tone. They didn’t know they needed to. To them, Ethan was just my brother’s best friend, the guy who’d always been around, who’d helped me with homework when I was a kid and cheered me on at every milestone. They didn’t see the history, the late-night talks, the river walk, the way he’d held my hand like I was his world, then dropped me like I was nothing.
Ethan’s eyes flickered, a flash of something... guilt, maybe? before he nodded. “Yeah, no problem. I… I was so worried, Aria. When I saw you go down—” His voice broke, and he cleared his throat, glancing at Mom and Kai like he was afraid they’d hear too much. “I’m just glad you’re awake.”
I swallowed hard, forcing a smile that felt like it might crack my face. “Yep, awake and kicking. Thanks for… you know, getting me to the ambulance and all that. Kai told me.”
Mom beamed, oblivious. “He was a hero, Aria. You should’ve seen him, Zianne told us he didn’t hesitate for a second.”
Kai chuckled, standing to stretch. “Yeah, man, you’re basically Superman. Minus the cape.”
Ethan ducked his head, a faint flush creeping up his neck. “Just did what anyone would’ve.”
I bit my tongue, keeping my mask in place. Anyone? No, not anyone. You did it because it was me, I wanted to scream. Because you still care, even if you’re too much of a coward to admit it. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Not with Mom and Kai here, watching us like we were just old pals catching up.
Before I could say anything else, Kai’s phone buzzed, loud and insistent. He frowned, pulling it out, and his face tightened as he read the screen. “Crap,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Work. There’s some crisis at the company supply chain’s, gone to hell. I’ve gotta go back.”
Mom’s head snapped up, her brow furrowing. “Now? Kai, it’s late, and Aria—”
“I know, Mom,” he cut in, his voice firm but gentle. “But if I don’t handle this, it’ll blow up by morning. I’ll be back tomorrow, I promise.”
Mom sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Fine. But I should go too. I’ve got that big case at the hospital tomorrow. I need to prepare. I hate leaving her, though.”
I blinked, my stomach dropping as their words sank in. “Wait, you’re both leaving? Tonight?”
Kai nodded, already grabbing his jacket. “Yeah, but you’re getting discharged tomorrow, right? Bills are handled, everything’s set. You’ll be fine.”
Mom hesitated, her eyes darting between me and the door. “I don’t know… I don’t like leaving you alone.”
That’s when Kai turned to Ethan, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, man, you’re free tonight, right? Can you stay with Aria? Just until tomorrow morning? Make sure she’s okay?”
My heart stopped. No. No way. I opened my mouth to protest, but Ethan beat me to it, his voice calm, steady, like he hadn’t just been handed a grenade. “Yeah, of course. I’ll stay.”
Mom’s face lit up with relief, and she reached out to squeeze his arm. “Oh, Ethan, thank you. You’re a lifesaver. I feel so much better knowing you’re here.”
I stared at them, my jaw slack, panic clawing up my throat. “Wait, Mom, Kai, I’m fine! I don’t need—”
“Nonsense,” Mom cut in, her tone final. “You’re still recovering, Aria. Ethan will take good care of you. Right, Ethan?”
He nodded, his eyes flicking to me, soft but guarded. “Right. I’ve got her.”
Kai grinned, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “See? All set. We’ll be back tomorrow, sis. Rest up, okay?”
I wanted to scream, to beg them to stay, to not leave me alone with him. But they were already moving. Mom kissing my forehead, Kai ruffling my hair, both of them chattering about how they’d call later. And then they were gone, the door clicking shut behind them, leaving me and Ethan in a silence so thick it pressed against my skin.
I stared at the wall, my hands twisting the blanket, my heart hammering like it wanted to break free and run. Ethan shifted, setting the flowers on the bedside table, his movements slow, deliberate, like he was afraid to spook me. “So,” he said, his voice light but strained, “you hungry? I could grab you something from the cafeteria. They’ve got those little pudding cups you used to love when we were kids.”
I forced a laugh, short and brittle, keeping my tone casual, like he was just Kai’s buddy dropping by. “Nah, I’m good. Jiro already smuggled me a burger earlier. I’m stuffed.”
He chuckled, a soft, familiar sound that tugged at something deep inside me, and I hated it. “Figures. That guy’s a walking fast-food delivery service.”
“Yeah,” I said, my voice flat, my eyes fixed on the flowers so I wouldn’t have to look at him. “He’s the best.”
The air thickened again, awkward and heavy, pressing down until I could barely breathe. Ethan cleared his throat, trying again. “You did amazing, you know. At the symposium. I meant what I said in that text—you killed it.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled, my tone clipped, polite, nothing more. “Appreciate it.”
He shifted again, the chair creaking under him, and I could feel his eyes on me, searching, probing. “Aria,” he said finally, his voice dropping, serious now, “we should talk. About… everything.”
My head snapped up, my stomach lurching, and I met his gaze... those eyes, wide and earnest, shimmering with something that made my chest ache.
Worry, relief, regret. It was all there, laid bare, and it hit me like a wave, threatening to pull me under. But I shoved it down, hard, locking it away behind the wall I’d built to keep him out.
“No,” I said, my voice sharp, cutting through the quiet like a blade. “I don’t want to talk, Ethan. Not about that.”
His face fell, a flicker of hurt crossing it before he masked it, but I saw it, and it twisted something inside me. “Aria, please,” he said, leaning forward, his voice low, pleading. “I just—”
“No,” I snapped again, harder this time, my hands clenching the blanket. “I’m serious. I don’t want to hear it. Whatever happened, whatever you did… it’s done. I’m done. You saved me when that banner fell, and I’m grateful... really, I am. And thanks for staying tonight, for agreeing to look after me. But that’s it. Whatever was between us? It’s over. Forgotten. You’re with Professor Davies now, and I respect that. Let’s just… act like nothing ever happened, okay?”
His eyes widened, his mouth parting like he wanted to argue, to spill everything I could see simmering behind his gaze. I braced myself, ready for him to fight back, to tell me I was wrong, to explain why he’d broken me and then acted like my lifeline.
But he didn’t.
He just sat there, his shoulders slumping, his hands falling limp in his lap. “Okay,” he whispered, his voice rough, defeated. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is,” I lied, my throat tight, my heart screaming at me to take it back, to let him in. But I couldn’t. Not after everything.
He nodded, slow and heavy, like it cost him something vital. “Alright. But… can we at least stay friends? I mean, I’ve known you forever, Aria. I don’t want to lose that.”
I froze, my breath catching, his words dangling between us like a lifeline I didn’t know how to grab. Friends? After all the late-night talks, the stolen glances, that night by the river when he’d held me like I was his world?
My chest ached, a hollow, fluttering pain that made me want to curl up and cry. I wanted to say yes, to cling to that tiny piece of him, but I couldn’t answer. Not yet. Not when my heart was still bleeding.
“I’m sleepy,” I said instead, my voice small, turning away from him to face the wall. I pulled the blanket higher, hiding my face, my back a shield against the weight of his gaze. 
He didn’t push. Didn’t argue. I heard the chair creak as he shifted, the soft rustle of his jacket as he settled in, and then silence... thick, heavy, suffocating. My eyes burned, tears slipping free despite my best efforts, soaking into the pillow as I bit my lip to keep quiet. I could feel him there, just feet away, his presence a warmth I couldn’t escape, a comfort I didn’t want to need.
The room stayed quiet, the only sounds the monitors and my shaky breaths. I wanted to turn back, to see his face, to ask why, why he’d broken me, why he’d stayed, why he looked at me like I still mattered.
But I didn’t. I couldn’t.
So I lay there, my heart fluttering with the ghost of what we’d had, warming with the stubborn love I couldn’t kill, and shattering under the weight of what we’d lost.
Tomorrow, I’d be discharged. Tomorrow, I’d go back to my life, to my friends, to a world where Ethan was just my professor, my brother’s best friend, someone I’d once dreamed of forever with.
But tonight, he was here, watching over me, and I let myself feel it, one last time before I forced my eyes shut and willed sleep to take me away from him, from us, from everything.