Yanked from a fitful sleep, panic flooding every pore in her body, Alicia’s eyes shot to the monitor, and her heart rate returned to somewhere near normal. Reassured by the steady blip, blip indicating his vital signs were stable, she looked to where her hand still lay on Justin’s, her fingers curled softly around his. He hadn’t moved. No movement at all, apart from the rapid flicker of his eyelids as his eyes chased his dreams.

Or nightmares.

The cardiothoracic surgeons had worked relentlessly, and by some miracle they’d managed to control the haemorrhaging caused by the knife wound. And it had been a miracle. Even with fast surgical intervention, his chances had been slim. He was weak, but, God willing, he would recover physically. Mentally and emotionally, though, Alicia knew those wounds might be unlikely to heal.

He still looked deathly pale against the stark white of the sheets. Alicia studied his profile, a strong profile, which so often gave nothing away of the man inside. A good, dependable man, brought to his knees, by her. She desperately wanted to lie next to him, hold him, as he’d held her after the emergency surgery she’d had to deliver their baby boy. He’d been so gentle, so caring, both immediately after the birth and every day thereafter, until little Lucas had been stolen away. Until Paul Radley had walked back into her life and stolen Justin’s happiness away.

Squeezing his hand gently, she leaned to brush his cheek with a kiss. ‘I never stopped loving you, Justin,’ she whispered. ‘Never.’

Forcing her tears back, she prayed silently that God would find it within his mercy to bring his daughter back to him. Then almost shot out of her skin as Justin said, ‘Tell her I’m sorry.’

‘What?’ Getting unsteadily to her feet, Alicia searched his face.

‘Sophie, tell her, will you? I—’ Justin coughed and then squeezed her hand hard.

Alicia wasted no time, jabbing buttons and calling for help, and when it came, even while they were checking monitors and tubes, Justin didn’t let go of her hand.

Finally, his pain medication adjusted and as comfortable as he could be, he dozed. It was a fitful sleep. He would jolt painfully awake, perspiration beading his brow and confusion in his eyes. He spoke occasionally – incoherently, mostly. ‘Where’s Sophie?’ he’d asked several times. He’d asked where Luke was, too, which broke Alicia’s heart all over again, for Justin. The nurse had confirmed that the morphine was feeding his confusion, but still Alicia worried. Justin needed help. Whatever kind of counselling he needed, she would support him, if he would let her. Whatever he wanted, she wouldn’t fight him. She might not deserve to survive, but he did.

Alicia checked again. He was still sleeping. Knowing it might be the last time she would spend a night by his side, she brushed his damp hair from his forehead, pressed her lips lightly against it, and then settled back down to watch him. She wouldn’t go, even if he didn’t want her there, until he was out of danger.