I forced myself up, swaying, and dragged myself to the hospital.
The doctor frowned at my wound as he stitched me. “Why didn’t anyone bring you here? You lost too much blood. This is serious.”
I bit my lip as the needle went in. “I didn’t have anyone.”
He hesitated. “Weird… a young woman came in earlier with a tiny graze. Her boyfriend was terrified. He demanded extra checks.”
A bitter laugh escaped me. “That was my boyfriend too.”
He froze, didn’t ask more. Just finished the stitches in silence.
Late that night I was in my room changing my bandage when Fredrinn finally came back. He froze at the door when he saw me struggling.
His eyes went wide at the wound. “Lesley, how did this happen?” His voice cracked as he rushed over.
I didn’t even look up. “The shelf hit me.”
His hand hovered over mine, shaking. “It… it was chaos. Miya was crying. I thought she got hurt bad. I didn’t mean to leave you.”
I forced a tiny smile. “You did the right thing. She needed you.”
“No, Lesley.” He grabbed my hand tight. His grip was warm, desperate. “You don’t get it. I only treat her well because of her bone marrow. You’re the one I love. Always you. Don’t push me away.”
My eyes burned. “I know. That’s why I didn’t blame you.”
He let out a long breath, relief washing over him. He carefully wrapped my arm, his fingers gentle. “Rest now. I’ll stay. Watch over you.”
For a moment, with his hands on me, I almost believed it was the old days. Back when he never left.
Then the ringtone split the silence.
“Fredrinn…” My twin’s voice, dripping with fake sobs. “I miss you. I’m scared… I can’t find you…”
His face twisted, guilt sharp. “I’ll come right away.”
He hung up and looked at me, torn. “She’s alone in the hospital. She’s afraid. I’ll come back after she sleeps. I swear.”
And just like that, he left. Taking the last warmth from the room with him.
I curled up on the bed, hugging my knees. My breathing was uneven. My chest wasn’t the only thing that hurt. My heart was shattered.
He didn’t come home for two days. At first, I kept checking the clock, hoping I’d hear his footsteps. Then I stopped caring. I swallowed my meds on time, changed the dressing on my arm, and tried to heal quietly in my little corner.
That afternoon, I sat by the window with a book. The sun was warm, but my eyes hurt too much to hold it. My phone buzzed. I picked it up, and her voice poured through.