"Let's sleep. Good night."
Kyle leaned closer to her, his voice low and gentle, as if afraid even the sound of it might disturb her.
They were already lying on the bed, but there was a careful distance between them—a space he deliberately kept. Kyle was painfully aware of her condition, of the casts that wrapped around her body like fragile porcelain. One wrong movement, one careless shift, and he could hurt her. So he stayed still, restrained, even though every instinct in him wanted to pull her closer.
Yvienna turned her head slightly to look at him. The dim light from the bedside lamp softened his features, tracing the familiar lines of his face. A small smile curved on her lips—warm, sincere, unguarded.
"Good night," she said softly. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she added,
"I love you."
Kyle shot upright in an instant.
