My hands shake, legs bouncing in my seat, teetering the steaming coffee I hold above my lap. Somehow, I’m still here. Somehow, I’m still alive. Somehow, my heart beats again.

Part of me wants to know why. How it’s even possible. Learn the truth about what’s happening to me, if only to ease the fear that consumes me every night before I fall asleep. The fear that reminds me I’m only part of a glitch. The fear that tells me I’m not supposed to be here, and I might not be when the sun rises.

But another, larger part takes comfort in not knowing. Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe the answers to all my questions end in pain, death, or misery. Or somewhere in between. They say ignorance is bliss, and right now, I’m tempted to believe them.

I scan the waiting room, taking in the empty chairs. It’s three in the morning, and I’m not allowed to be here. But this doctor happens to be the same as Mr. Blackwood’s was, and she took pity on me. It’s been four days since Enzo’s surgery. Three days since he slipped into a coma. There’s no way in hell I’m leaving this place until he wakes up.

And he has to wake up. He has to. Because we can’t have gone through all that we have just to wind up losing each other.

“Lou?” I jolt at the unexpected sound, almost knocking the coffee to the ground. Again. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

I set the cup down and look up at the doctor, the faint lines around her eyes creased as she gazes down at me.

“You’re still here,” I murmur, my exhaustion making it extra challenging to speak in full sentences. “I mean, I thought you left hours ago.”

She nods. “I did. Then I received an important call and decided to come see for myself.”

A surge of hope bubbles up, but I quickly shove it back down. What if it’s not what I think? What if it’s worse? “Wh-what? What is it?”

A small smile lifts her lips, and that’s it. That’s all the answer I need. I’m out of my chair, breaking out in strange goosebumps as waves of anticipation stir in the pit of my stomach.

Her hand comes up around my arm. “Hold on, now. Yes, I’m very happy to inform you he’s up. But there is something you should know.”

I don’t care. Enzo is here. With me. In my world. Our world. And now, he’s awake. Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it. We’ll deal with it together. “Okay, but can I see him?”

Her lips purse. “You may, but—”

I’m already swinging around and taking a step toward his room when her grip stops me. “Lou, wait. Please. I need you to understand something before you go in there.”

I turn back to her, taking in the serious lines of her expression. A frown pulls my lips down. “I’m listening.”

She lets out a breath, then closes her eyes briefly before beginning. “A coma can really take its toll on a person, both mentally and physically. Combine that with severe trauma, and, well, it’s a lot for someone to deal with. It can be difficult to adjust.”

Yes, I’m aware. This is not groundbreaking stuff. “And?”

“And, in this case . . . in this case, dear, he may not remember much at all.”

The way my stomach drops, I’m certain an anchor is in there, weighing it down. “You’re talking about amnesia.”

Another nod. “I am, yes. Now, we did try speaking to him and he was able to tell us some things. However . . .”

She continues talking, but I may as well be submerged in a tank of water. The sound of her voice drowns out in the distance, unclear and muddled as I shake my head. No. He remembers me. He has to. If he could hold onto me during all that time in the void, he can sure as hell hold onto me during a coma. Can’t he? An uneasiness sits in my gut, forcing me to face the very real possibility that I will walk into that room, look him dead in the eye, and he’ll have no idea who I am.

“Lou?”

Her voice comes back clearer as my mind gradually returns to the waiting room. “Sorry. Yes?”

“I asked if you think you’re ready to see him now.”

I wipe my hands on my jeans, suddenly not sure how to answer.

“Are you all right? We can always do this another time. There’s no need to rush this sort of—”

“No, no. I’m ready.” Of course I’m ready. I’ve been dreaming of this day for too long. The day we’d meet in this world with both our hearts beating. “Please. I-I’d like to see him now.”

She hesitates, but turns and gestures for me to follow. I already know where his room is, of course, but I trail behind her anyway, stopping when she stops. She gives a light rap on the door, then pokes her head inside. I don’t hear what she says, but the next thing I know, she’s holding the door wide open and stepping aside, and I don’t know how to breathe. Don’t know how to move. How to think. How to feel.

“Lou, it’s okay,” she says gently. “You can go on in now.”

I let out a quivering breath, and I nod.

It’s time. It’s finally time.

I don’t even feel my legs move when I take the first step, but then I’m in the room and the door clicks behind me.

And it’s just me. And him.

I stay frozen in place by the door, my heart thumping against my chest as I rake my eyes over his wounds, not yet ready to meet his gaze. Not yet ready to discover the blank stare as he fails to recognize me. The hospital blanket is folded over, covering everything below his hips. His upper half is bare, revealing the hard lines of his body I’ve memorized, the scars I’ve kissed, and a wide, white bandage I’ve never seen that’s wrapped around his chest. I watch it rise and fall with his slow, measured breaths, and when the steady beeps from the heart monitor make their way to my ears, I squeeze my eyes shut and choke out a quiet sob.

He’s really here. He’s alive. Away from suffering, and able to create a new life.

The knowledge ignites a gentle glow within my heart, thawing the icy nerves and repairing them with the soothing balm of relief. I shake my head at myself, feeling the pure joy and love warm my soul. I’m so happy for him it hurts, the feeling expanding inside of me so thoroughly I’m about to burst. The truth is, even if he doesn’t remember me, even if he asks me to turn around and leave, I will never regret any of it. Because he got his life back, and in the process, he showed me what it means to love and be loved in ways I never knew possible.

Finally, I open my mouth and suck in a lungful of air. Then I pull back my tears, open my eyes, and place one foot in front of the other. I keep my chin up as I reach the bed, determined not to ruin this beautiful day for him. Then I look him in the eye.

The first thing I take in is the sea of green. Not a hint of grey, black, or any shades in between to muddle the iris. Just the deepest hues of green I’ve ever laid eyes on, shadowed beneath thick, dark lashes, and for a moment, I can’t look away. My gaze drops to his throat as he swallows, and I notice as the rise and fall of his chest becomes a little faster, a little harder. When his warm hand wraps around mine, I go still, breath catching and eyes closing as I realize what it means.

“Lou.” Even as his voice breaks, strained, the sound is just as addictive as ever. Low and rough in all the right places, it glides over my skin like a warm glove.

“I-is this real?” I whisper, a fresh tear spilling over my sealed lashes.

“You tell me.” He lifts my hand, slowly bringing it higher, and the soft brush of his lips against my skin sends a shiver straight to my toes. “Does this feel real?”

When he tugs me gently toward him, my eyes open and I’m suddenly in the bed right beside him. He grips my waist with one strong hand until my hips are rubbing against his, and another thick swallow passes through his throat at the contact. “How about this?”

My heart pounds so rapidly I’m certain it’s going to break some sort of record. Then his fingers are curling around the nape of my neck, and he’s slowly pulling my face closer to his. And closer, until our lips almost touch. When I exhale, he breathes it in. He’s staring at my mouth, his eyes darkening with something hungry and tender all at once, and it sends my pulse into overdrive. “And this, Lou. Does this feel real?”

Finally, I whisper, “Yes,” through another sob, and he closes his eyes tightly, a pained look crossing over his expression.

“Thank fucking god,” he breathes, his breath ragged, “because I’m never walking away from you again.”

I laugh out a strangled cry, unable to believe I’m actually hearing those words from him, and he closes the gap between us, crushing my lips with his. His mouth is demanding, exploring like he’s tasting me for the very first time. Every movement of his tongue tangling with mine, every graze of teeth as he nips—he’s claiming me in a way I’ve never experienced. Raw, hungry, and rippling with power, it shoots electric tingles down my back, snaking around my body and pooling between my thighs.

Lips still locked on mine, his fingers wrap around my own, holding them with the kind of tenderness that makes me squeeze my eyes tight. I’m scared that if I open them, I’ll find it’s all been a dream, and it will break me into a million pieces.

As if sensing my fear, his hands come up to cradle my face. He pulls me in closer, deepening the kiss, and as he does his movements slow into a lazy exploration of me. Every stroke of his tongue speaks straight to my soul. He tells me with his kiss that this is as real as our beating hearts, and I don’t have to be afraid. He tells me to never let go, because now, we will never have to. That last thought echoes in my mind like the reflection of a thousand mirrors staring back at me.

I don’t have to let go.

A fresh wave of desperation floods me, filling me with the urgent need to close any gap between us. I shift until I’m straddling him, careful to avoid touching his wound, and he groans into my mouth, his hands gripping my hair.

When I grind against him, he growls and places both hands on my hips, halting the movement completely. He’s panting, trying to slow his breathing. “No.”

I frown, my eyes dropping to the bulge beneath the thin blanket. “Why?” Clearly his mouth and his body need to get on the same page.

He chuckles softly as he notices where my gaze has strayed, the low sound vibrating through his chest and making my lips curve. God, that laugh. Still the best sound I’ve ever heard.

“Why?” His voice trails off, his hand stroking the side of my face. “Because you’re finally mine, Lou. And the first thing I’m going to do when I get out of here is show you exactly how it feels to be mine.”