The hospital room was quiet except for the soft beeping of the monitor. Snow drifted against the window, a reminder of the storm outside, but inside the world felt smaller, wrapped around the fragile space between Ethan and Riley.
Ethan shifted carefully in the bed, the movement pulling a groan from his throat. Riley was by his side instantly, leaning forward.
“You okay?” she asked, worry tightening her voice.
He nodded, though his jaw clenched. “Just feels like my leg is on fire. I’ll live.
“You don’t always have to say that,” Riley murmured. “It’s okay to admit when it hurts.
Ethan’s lips curved into a tired smile. “If I did that every time, you’d never leave my side.
“Maybe I don’t want to,” she replied, half teasing but half serious.
Her words hung in the air, and Ethan studied
