Georgia’s hand wrapped around her drink as she looked down at the table. The quiet buzz of the hospital cafeteria filled the space around them, low murmurs, footsteps, the occasional clinking of mugs and plates. Her gaze flicked to the ceiling for a moment before she spoke, her voice soft but steady.
“I’m not scared, Lucian,” she said. “I just… I didn’t want to talk about us while May is still unconscious.”
Lucian leaned back slightly, his fingers resting on the edge of his cup. “I understand,” he said, his voice calm. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll forget about it.”
Georgia glanced at him, eyes searching his face. “Do you regret it?”
Lucian blinked. “Regret what?”
She shifted in her seat, tapping a finger against the side of her drink. “Drinking the drugged wine… in my place.”
Lucian l
