desertion

109

LYDIA

Hospitals had a way of making time drag, each minute feeling like an hour, but today didn't feel so bad. Probably because I wasn't alone. Not for a single second. As everyone suspected, Buck had taken "hovering" to a whole new level. Every time a nurse came in to check my vitals, he asked a million questions like he didn't trust them to do their jobs.

"Buck, I'm fine," I told him for what felt like the hundredth time, laughing softly as I tried to reassure him.

He crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at me. "You say that, but-"

"No buts," I interrupted. "I'm alive, I'm breathing, and I'm fine. You can stop acting like I'm made of glass."

"I'm not-" he started, but I gave him a look that made him pause. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, fine. But if you need anything-"

"I'll call you first," I promised, smiling at him.

Just as Buck opened his mouth to argue (probably to tell me to call him even if I didn't need anything), the door opened, and Miles walked in.

The second I saw him, my heart felt a little lighter. He walked straight over to me, wrapping me in a hug like he'd been holding his breath since the last time he saw me. I leaned into him, grateful for the comfort, and he kissed the top of my head before pulling back.

"You really gotta stop ending up in the hospital," he said, raising an eyebrow and trying to keep a straight face. "You're going to start worrying the insurance people."

I laughed, the sound spilling out of me before I could stop it. "Oh, so now they're worried about me?"

"Hey, I'm just saying," he teased, sitting down in the chair beside my bed. "Maybe tone it down a little. Leave some drama for the rest of us."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help smiling. Miles always knew how to make me feel better, even when everything else felt overwhelming.

The day went on like that-doctors coming in to check on me, nurses popping their heads in to ask how I was doing, and Buck hovering in the background like a protective shadow. Miles stayed by my side through it all, cracking jokes and talking about random things to keep my mind off everything.

After a few hours, the door opened again, and my dad walked in, holding a bag of food. My stomach immediately growled at the smell, and I sat up straighter, giving him a grateful smile.

"Figured you'd be sick of hospital food," he said, setting the bag on the table beside me.

"You're a lifesaver," I told him, already reaching for the bag.

Miles pulled his chair closer to the table, and Buck joined us as we started eating. It wasn't anything fancy-just sandwiches and chips-but it was exactly what I needed.

For the first time in what felt like forever, things felt normal. We were all sitting around, talking and laughing like we were at home. For a little while, I forgot about the broken window, the photos, and the poison. I forgot about the fact that someone was out there watching me.

But the thoughts didn't stay gone for long.

Even as I laughed at one of Buck's stories, the images of those photos were there, in the back of my mind, haunting me. I kept seeing the picture of me at work, standing behind the register, completely unaware that someone was watching me. I kept thinking about the fact that they knew where I lived, that they'd been close enough to throw something through my window.

I felt the familiar weight in my chest, the tightness that made it hard to breathe. I wanted to shut down, to curl into myself and block out everything. But I didn't.

Instead, I forced myself to keep smiling, to keep eating, to keep acting like everything was okay.

Because for now, it had to be.