Nemesis, I'm not yours | COMPLETED.

Chapter Thirty One

Xavier

As I sit by Isla's hospital bed, I can't help but feel like I'm losing her. Her hand is cold in mine, her face pale against the sterile white of the sheets. I've been here for days, hardly sleeping, just waiting—hoping that she'll open her eyes and smile at me again.

"Isla, wake up. Please," I whisper, my voice breaking. I try to keep it together, but the sight of her like this tears me apart. "Your family is coming to visit you. We still have a lot to do. Don't die, please."

The sound of someone clearing their throat behind me snaps me out of my thoughts. I turn to see my father standing there, his face lined with concern. "It's alright, son," he says gently as he pulls me into a hug.

The moment I feel his arms around me, the dam breaks. I cry into his shoulder, the weight of everything that's happened crashing down on me. "Dad, I lost her," I choke out, my voice betraying the fear that's been gnawing at me since I found her bleeding on the floor.

"No, son," he says firmly, patting and rubbing my back in that reassuring way only a father can. "She's a fighter. She'll come around."

I pull back from the hug, searching his eyes for the certainty I desperately need. "How's Ruth?" I ask, needing to focus on something other than the fear.

"Heartbroken," he sighs. "Her idol is in the hospital, and she's got too much work to come see her. But when Isla wakes up, we're all going somewhere on vacation."

I manage a small smile at that. "No," I say, glancing at Isla's peaceful face. "We have to have our wedding and honeymoon first. Then maybe all the other stuff."

"Now, go," Dad says, his voice soft but insistent.

"Huh?" I look at him, confused.

"Go and sleep. You've not slept for almost three days. Isla wouldn't like to wake up and see a zombie Xavier. Go sleep."

"But I want to be here when she wakes up," I protest, not wanting to leave her side for even a second.

"Alright then," he says with a resigned smile.

A little later, Dad returns with a couple of hospital workers, and they bring in a bed, placing it right beside Isla's. Dad motions to the bed, his expression leaving no room for argument. "Go to sleep, now."

Reluctantly, I climb into the bed. It's not where I want to be—I want to be awake, watching over Isla—but the exhaustion finally catches up to me. I turn on my side, facing her, holding her hand tightly in mine as I watch her.

"Don't worry," I whisper, even though I know she can't hear me. "I'm right here."

With that, I finally let the darkness take over, my last thoughts focused on her and the life we'll have when she wakes up.