The Student Teacher Affair

54: I did. I love you

Joshua's pov

As the sun poured through the window of my hospital room, I blinked against the light, groaning softly. My body still ached, and every movement reminded me of the gunshot wound I was recovering from. But even through the pain, there was an unmistakable sense of gratitude. Gratitude for being alive. Gratitude for the people around me.

And most of all, gratitude for Mercy.

She had been here every day, taking care of me, making sure I had everything I needed. I watched her now as she adjusted the pillows behind my back, gently helping me sit up. Her hands were soft but strong, and the warmth of her touch spread through me like a soothing balm. I hadn’t imagined she would ever be here like this not after everything that had happened between us.

"Okay, easy does it," she said softly, her voice laced with concern as she handed me the plate of food she had brought. I could barely eat much, but she was determined to make sure I tried. I couldn't help but smile at her persistence.

"Thanks," I murmured as I took the plate, my movements sluggish but steady.

Mercy sat beside me on the edge of the bed, watching me closely. Every now and then, her eyes would flicker to my wound, as if making sure I wasn’t pushing myself too hard. Once I finished the small portion of food, she stood up to take the plate and set it on the tray table beside the bed.

I let out a sigh of relief as I sank back down into the pillows. My body felt heavy, worn down from the fight to heal. But even through the exhaustion, one thing was clear. I was lucky to have her by my side.

I glanced over at her as she turned back toward me, her eyes soft and filled with warmth. She smiled at me, and for a moment, the pain seemed to ease. Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed her hand, holding it gently but firmly in mine.

"Mercy," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

She looked at me, her eyes wide and curious. "Yes?"

I squeezed her hand slightly, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Thank you. For everything you’ve been doing. I don’t even know how to begin to tell you how grateful I am."

She smiled, but I could see the emotion behind her eyes. "It’s okay, Joshua. You don’t have to thank me."

"No," I insisted, shaking my head. "I mean it. You’ve been here with me every single day. You didn’t have to, but you stayed. I... I wouldn’t have made it through without you."

For a moment, she just stared at me, her expression softening. But then I felt a twinge of worry settle into my chest, something I couldn’t shake. Mercy must have noticed because she tilted her head slightly, a look of concern crossing her face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her hand still resting in mine.

I hesitated, unsure how to put the gnawing feeling into words. “It’s just... I love how you’ve been with me,” I finally said, my voice low. “If I could, I’d get shot every day just to keep seeing you like this.”

Her eyes widened, and she quickly narrowed them at me. "Shut up," she said, half-laughing, half-scolding me. "Don’t say things like that."

I chuckled softly, but the laughter quickly faded as I met her gaze. "I’m serious, Mercy. I don’t want this to end. Any of it. I don’t want to wake up one day and find out that this was just temporary. That once I’m healed, everything will go back to the way it was before."

She looked at me, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face. "Joshua, none of this is ending," she said quietly. "I told you I wasn’t leaving, and I meant that."