Folding For You

Chapter 24: Killian

I had wanted to see her—ever since that night, I made the stupid, impulsive decision to break up with her. I'd told myself it was for her good, that I was protecting her from the mess my life had become.

But it was bullshit, all of it. It had been nothing but fear driving me, the fear that I wasn't enough, that I would drag her down with me. I'd convinced myself it was better to walk away than let her see me fall apart.

But I couldn't stay away. I'd been on the verge of calling her more times than I could count, rehearsing what I would say, imagining how I'd explain that breaking up with her had been the biggest mistake of my life.

Whenever I saw her name on my phone, my fingers would hover over the call button, desperate to hear her voice again and tell her I wanted her back. But nothing I rehearsed could prepare me for this—seeing her here, fragile and teetering on the edge of life and death.

I never imagined our reunion would look like this. I thought I'd see her in some café, maybe bump into her at an event—something simple, something normal. I thought I'd have a chance to apologise, to say all the things I should have said that night instead of walking away.

But now, here she was, lying on my sofa, drugged, barely conscious, and I was terrified. I was terrified that I might lose her before I ever got the chance to make things right. Before I could tell her that I loved her. That I'd never stopped loving her.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

I couldn't stop pacing, my feet moving without thought as my eyes kept darting back to Sabrina, lying pale and lifeless on my sofa. She looked too fragile, and I could barely keep it together. My heart was pounding in my chest, harder and harder with every passing second. I felt like I was losing control. Like I was losing her.

Dr. Frederine was kneeling beside her, working quickly, but his calmness did nothing to settle the storm inside me. His medical bag was open on the floor, filled with tools and vials that might as well have been a lifeline—if they worked fast enough.

He had explained what he was going to do—something about flushing the drugs from her system—but his words barely registered. All I could see was Sabrina lying there, so still, her chest barely rising with shallow breaths.

"Is it working, Doc?" I asked, my voice rough and strained. I could barely get the words out. My throat felt tight, my chest even tighter. It was hard to breathe.

Dr. Frederine didn't even look up. "It's going to take some time, Killian. We've administered the medication to counteract the drugs, but we need to let her body process it. She's stable."

Stable. That word meant nothing to me right now. She looked anything but stable. She looked like she was fading. I crouched beside her, my hand reaching for hers. It was cold. Colder than it should have been. Her skin felt clammy, and her face was too pale. I gripped her hand harder, willing her to squeeze back, to give me something that said she was still with me. But she didn't move. She didn't react.

The guilt was crushing. I should have protected her. I should have been watching her more closely. How the hell did this happen? At Iyana's party, of all places? My head spun with a million questions, none of them with answers. Not yet.

Sabrina stirred a little, just a faint movement like she was trying to wake up but couldn't. It wasn't enough. Her body was still too limp, her breathing still too shallow. I felt panic claw at my throat.

"Doc," I said, barely holding myself together, "are you sure—"

"I'm sure," the doctor interrupted, his voice steady. "She's young, healthy. We caught it in time."

Caught it in time. But those words did nothing to stop the panic coursing through me. I shot up from the floor, pacing again, running my hands through my hair as my chest tightened with every breath.

My mind spiralled, replaying the night on an endless loop. I kept seeing the moment we bumped into each other, how I'd barely recognised her at first, thinking she was just another face in the crowd—until she spoke.

"Killian..."

That single word had stopped me cold. But then everything unravelled. The way she stumbled, the confusion clouding her eyes, the way her legs gave out as if they no longer belonged to her. And the way she collapsed in my arms, helpless.

Whoever did this... whoever thought they could hurt her... they had no idea what they were in for.

"Who the hell would do this?" I muttered under my breath, more to myself than anyone else, rage simmering beneath my panic.

Dr. Frederine was too focused on his work to answer, so he adjusted the IV drip and rechecked her pulse. But none of it felt fast enough. I needed her to wake up. I needed to see her eyes open and know she was still with me.

I stopped pacing and crouched next to her again, brushing a strand of hair off her forehead. My fingers lingered there, touching her cold skin. Too cold. I could feel my pulse racing in my ears, my whole body trembling with the weight of it all.

"Come on, Dimples," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Please wake up."

Minutes passed, but they felt like hours. The silence was unbearable, broken only by the soft hum of the IV pump and Dr. Frederine's movements. I stayed by her side, holding her hand, gripping it tight as I could somehow pull her back to me through sheer willpower. I couldn't lose her. Not like this. Not after everything.

Then, finally, her eyelids fluttered. It was barely noticeable at first, just a tiny movement, but my heart leapt in my chest.

"Dimples?" I said, my voice sharp with hope.

Her eyes blinked open slowly, unfocused initially, but she was there. She was waking up. She turned her head toward me, her lips parting as she tried to speak.

"Dimples, can you hear me?" I leaned in closer, desperate, my voice shaking.

She blinked again, and her eyes started to clear. She looked at me, really looked at me, and the sound of her weak, barely audible voice hit me like a punch to the chest.

"Killian?"