Caelan's eyes felt heavy, weighed down by the dull throbbing in his head. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled his nostrils, and the faint, rhythmic beeping of machines pulsed faintly in the background. His limbs felt sluggish, as if the very air pressing against him was too dense to move through. The faintest glimmer of light slipped in through the blinds, casting a soft, golden haze over the room. For a moment, he simply lay there, unmoving, hovering between consciousness and the pull of sleep.
But then, it all came rushing back.
The rain.
The screech of tires.
Elise’s voice calling his name in terror.
The impact.
Her bloodied face slumped against the window.
His eyes snapped open.
With a sharp, ragged inhale, Caelan jerked upright. A searing pain shot through his ribs, knocking the breath from his lungs. He clutched his side with a low, guttural groan, squeezing his eyes shut as he gritted his teeth through the pain. His heart was hammering violently, and for a moment, disorientation clouded his mind.
But then, he remembered.
Elise.
Panic surged through him, sharper than any physical pain. He twisted his head frantically, searching the room, but she wasn’t there. His throat tightened. His breathing grew shallow. The memories came in flashes—the blood on her temple, the fading light in her eyes, her voice barely above a whisper.
“No…” he rasped, his voice hoarse and cracked. His hands fumbled with the tangle of wires connected to his arms. His fingers were trembling as he yanked at the IV drip, wincing as it pulled free. The machines beeped erratically in protest, but he didn’t care. He shoved aside the thin hospital blanket, ignoring the pain in his ribs as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, gripping the edge of the mattress for support. His legs were unsteady, weak from disuse, but he forced himself to stand. His knuckles whitened against the cool metal of the IV pole as he leaned on it for balance. Every breath burned in his chest, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.
He staggered into the hallway, blinking against the bright fluorescent lights. The corridor stretched endlessly, sterile and white, lined with identical hospital rooms. His vision blurred slightly at the edges, and he clutched at the wall to steady himself. His heart was thundering against his ribs, an erratic, frantic beat that made it hard to breathe.
He scanned each door, his eyes wild with desperation. Where is she?
And then he saw her name.
Elise Moreau.
The small black letters on the plate outside the door were suddenly the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
Without hesitation, he shoved the door open.
The sight before him made him freeze.
There she was.
Awake.
Sitting up in bed, her hair slightly tousled but her eyes bright and clear. She was smiling. Laughing softly as Rachel and Garrett sat beside her, their voices light and easy.
For a moment, Caelan couldn’t breathe.
The tightness in his chest eased slightly, the weight that had been crushing him lifting just enough for him to suck in a trembling breath. His grip loosened on the doorframe, and he took an unsteady step forward.
Elise’s eyes caught his.
Her face lit up with a radiant smile—a breathtaking, open expression of pure, unfiltered joy. Her eyes shimmered, full of warmth and relief, and she beamed at him as though nothing else in the world mattered.
“Caelan,” she breathed, her voice soft but filled with so much emotion it nearly brought him to his knees.
The world around him blurred and faded away. He didn’t see Rachel and Garrett’s amused smiles. He didn’t feel the dull ache in his ribs or the lingering fatigue in his limbs.
He only saw her.
“Elise,” he choked out, his voice breaking. He staggered to her bedside, reaching out with trembling hands. His fingers cupped her face, brushing over her cheek, needing to feel her warmth—to make sure she was real and not some cruel trick of his mind.
She leaned into his touch, her eyes brimming with emotion.
And then she whispered the words that made his heart stop.
“We’re back.”
For a split second, he thought he hadn’t heard her correctly. His brow furrowed slightly, and he searched her eyes for confirmation.
Her smile widened, bright and full of life. Her hand covered his, pressing it against her cheek as she whispered again, her voice thick with joy.
“We’re back, Caelan. It’s us.”
The words hit him with the force of a tidal wave.
He felt his breath catch. His chest constricted, but this time it wasn’t from fear or pain—it was from the overwhelming surge of relief that flooded through him, leaving him trembling.
They were back.
In their own bodies.
No more uncertainty. No more confusion. No more fighting against reality.
His eyes burned, but he didn’t care. With a broken gasp, he pulled her into his arms. His fingers curled around the back of her head, tangling in her hair as he crushed her against him.
And then he kissed her.
It wasn’t gentle or restrained. It was raw, desperate, and all-consuming—a kiss that carried the weight of every fear, every longing, and every unspoken word. His lips moved feverishly against hers, as if he were afraid she would slip away again if he let go.
Her fingers twisted into the fabric of his hospital gown, clinging to him as she kissed him back just as fiercely. Her lips were warm and soft, and she tasted faintly of the peppermint candy she had been sucking on moments before.
Time ceased to exist.
Rachel and Garrett exchanged a glance, their eyes softening at the sight of the couple. With knowing smiles, they quietly stood from their chairs. Without a word, they slipped out of the room, closing the door behind them.
Caelan barely noticed.
He tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss, pouring every ounce of his soul into it. His hands cupped her face, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks. The warmth of her skin against his sent a shiver down his spine.
When they finally broke apart, their foreheads rested together, both of them breathless and trembling.
Caelan let out a shaky exhale, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I thought I lost you.”
Elise’s eyes softened, and she reached up, brushing her fingers over his temple where the bandage covered the wound he had gotten from the crash. Her eyes were tender, her gaze unwavering.
“You didn’t,” she murmured softly. “You never will.”
He kissed her again—slower this time, reverent and filled with aching devotion. His lips moved over hers gently, as if trying to memorize every curve, every sigh, every fleeting shiver.
When they finally pulled apart, she rested her forehead against his, their breaths mingling. Her fingers traced lazy circles over the back of his neck, and he felt himself slowly exhale, the weight he had been carrying for so long finally slipping away.
For the first time in what felt like forever, everything was right again.
He pulled her close, pressing his lips softly to her temple, holding her as if he never wanted to let go. And he wouldn’t. Not ever again.
In the quiet, he could hear the faint hum of machines, the distant voices of nurses in the hallway, and the rhythmic beeping of Elise’s heart monitor. It was steady and strong—just like her.
And for the first time in a long time, Caelan smiled.
A real, unguarded, utterly contented smile.
Because finally, everything was back to normal.