Leo's finger lowered slowly back to the sheet, his small hand relaxing as the effort of speaking caught up with him. His eyes fluttered, exhaustion pulling him under again.
The room exhaled.
I hadn't realized I was holding my breath until it left me in a shaky rush. I smoothed Leo's hair, murmuring soft reassurances until his breathing evened out once more.
Only then did I feel it.
Damien behind me.
Not moving. Not speaking.
Watching.
I straightened slowly, every nerve ending screaming as I turned to face him.
He wasn't looking at me.
He was looking at my son.
At his son.
The realization sat between us like a loaded weapon.
"He said… you'd protect us," I said quietly, my voice tight. "You shouldn't have promised him anything."
Damien's jaw flexed.
"I didn't promise," he replied, voice low, controlled. "I stated a fact."
That frightened me more than anger ever could.
"You don't get to decide that," I said, lifting my chin. "Not now. Not after five years."
His eyes finally met mine.
Dark. Sharp. Alive with a thousand questions he hadn't asked yet.
"And you didn't get to decide I'd never know him," Damien said. "Yet here we are."
Silence stretched.
The machines hummed softly, indifferent to the war unfolding in glances and half-spoken truths.
"He's sick," I said, trying to regain control. "He needs stability. Routine. Not… you sweeping in and turning his world upside down."
Damien took one step closer.
Then another.
He stopped just short of the bed, hands braced lightly on the metal railing, careful not to touch Leo.
"Do you think I'd hurt him?" he asked quietly.
I looked away.
"I think your world is dangerous," I said. "And it always has been."
His voice dropped.
"So is running."
That cut deeper than he could possibly know.
"You don't understand what I walked away from," I whispered. "What was happening back then. Who was watching you. Who would have used a child to get to you."
That got his attention.
His eyes sharpened, calculating instantly. "You were threatened."
I stiffened.
"I didn't say that."
"You don't have to," Damien said. "Your fear says enough."
For the first time since he arrived, I saw something crack beneath his control.
Anger—not at me.
At himself.
At the world.
"At whoever made you believe you were safer without me," he said.
I shook my head. "I didn't believe. I knew."
We stared at each other, years of hurt and misunderstanding pressed tight between us.
Then footsteps approached.
A doctor entered quietly, glancing between us before focusing on Leo.
"He's responding well," she said gently. "We'll keep him overnight for observation, but the worst has passed."
Relief crashed through me so fast my knees nearly gave out.
"Thank you," I breathed.
The doctor gave Damien a brief, professional nod, then left.
The door clicked shut.
And suddenly, there was nowhere left to hide.
Damien straightened slowly. "You and Leo aren't leaving this hospital alone."
My head snapped up. "Damien—"
"Not a discussion," he said calmly. "You've already been found once. That means someone else can find you too."
My heart stuttered. "You think this is about you?"
"I know it is," he replied. "And now it's about him."
He glanced at Leo again, something almost reverent flickering through his eyes.
"I won't take him from you," Damien said. "But I won't walk away either."
"You don't get both," I said hoarsely.
"Yes," he said, unwavering. "I do."
Tears burned, threatening again.
"I built his life without you," I whispered. "I can't just—"
"You don't have to erase anything," Damien interrupted. "But you are done doing this alone."
His voice softened—not weak, but honest.
"You don't trust me," he said. "I see that. But whether you like it or not, Lia… I'm already part of his life."
I looked at my sleeping son.
At the calm on his face.
At how he hadn't flinched when Damien spoke.
How instinctively he had reached for him.
My chest ached.
"What if you leave again?" I asked, barely audible.
Damien didn't hesitate.
"I won't."
"You don't know that."
"I do," he said. "Because there's one thing you still don't understand about me."
He stepped closer, stopping directly in front of me.
"When something is mine… I protect it."
His gaze dropped briefly—to Leo.
Then returned to me.
"And I don't lose what's mine twice."
A chill ran through me.
Not fear.
Something far more dangerous.
Because deep down, I knew—
The moment Leo had called him the man who would protect them…
Everything had already changed.
And the truth I had buried for five years was no longer something I could control.