Blue Ribbon

Chapter 55 - The Other Nathan

"I only write when I am falling in love,
or falling apart."

Lilly's POV

The knock on my door pulled me out of my endless trance, my gaze lifting from my phone as I mumbled a low, "Come in." I tossed the phone aside, boredom gnawing at my thoughts. I glanced toward the room's entrance, expecting it to be Dad or Chase as they have never left my side since I woke up, only to be proven entirely wrong.

My eyes widened, and I shifted in my seat, straightening up, my palms pressing into the mattress as he stepped into the room, carefully closing the door behind him. My throat burned, the air heavy with unspoken tension. My gaze flickered to the door that let him in before meeting his tortured grey eyes.

"Christian...uh, Dad is here, he would—" I tried to say, the thought of my dad stumbling upon him again made my heart race uncontrollably.

He nodded, his movements slow and deliberate as he took a hesitant step forward, "I know," he said, the muscles of his jaw working as his eyes roamed my face, searching for something. "I asked for his permission," His words didn't help but add a new layer of anxiety to my already frayed nerves.

"And...and he said—yes?" I stuttered, disbelief coloring my voice.

Christian nodded, stopping just beside my bed, "Yeah, he did."

I couldn't comprehend any of it. Dad had always been fiercely protective of me, especially when it came to guys, but with Christian, it was a whole different level. The fact that he would accept this made a heavy feeling settle over my chest, like a stone sinking into the depths of my soul. Something must have happened.

Christian kept silent at first, the air heavy with a million unspoken words. The grey of his eyes mirrored the storm inside me, a whirlwind of fear, anxiety, and uncertainty. The longer I stared at his broken gaze, the heavier the tears felt as they welled up in my own, threatening to spill over for some unknown reason.

Almost as if his legs could no longer support him, his gaze fell to the chair by my bed, "Can I?" he asked, his voice heavy with the weight of someone who had fought a war and returned back defeated.

Uncertain of anything anymore, I nodded my head, "Yeah."

He sank into the chair, his eyes flickering around the room, absorbing my surroundings before they settled on me again. The lines on his forehead and between his brows seemed permanently etched by the burden of his worry. His anxious expression was so foreign, a stark contrast to the person I thought I knew.

"Can you really not—" He struggled to form the words, swallowing hard, as he gazed at my useless legs tucked under the blanket, "Is it true? Can you really not...walk?"

I rubbed a hand over my throat, trying to dull the ache building there at the mere thought of it, "For now, yeah," I mumbled, "The doctor said it's temporary," I added, trying to infuse a flicker of hope into my words, "I will start my treatments soon."

But neither my words nor the fragile hope they carried managed to ease the torment apparently ravaging his soul. His distress was palpable, a heavy, suffocating presence that mirrored my own despair.

The room seemed to close in around us, the weight of unspoken words pressing down, threatening to crush us beneath it all.

Christian's gaze eyes flickered down to his lap, staring at his hands as he fidgeted with them, "You know, I keep going back to that day, I just can't stop thinking about it," He started to say, his voice low, aching, and desperate, "The day I ruined everything," He added, his eyes flickering up to my own, filled with a haunting sorrow, "The day I told you everything."