Lucian
I sat on the couch in her hospital room, exhausted. The guilt had started creeping in, sure—but not in the way Tina might have hoped. It wasn’t guilt for being with Mara or moving on. It was guilt for how this mess had escalated. For what it might cost the child.
At some point, I fell asleep, and when I woke, sunlight was already filtering through the blinds.
“Lucian…” I heard her voice. Thin. Soft. Alive.
I turned toward the bed.
She looked smaller somehow—pale, but not frail. In fact, she looked well-rested. For someone who had tried to end her life, she didn’t sound nearly as broken as I expected.
I didn’t soften. Not this time.
“How could you?” I asked her.
Her eyes filled with tears instantly, and her voice cracked, but I could hear the weight behind her words.
“I want
