The Space Between Heartbeats

The Space Between

Chapter Fiveteen

The Space Between

DANNI’S POV

The room was quieter now.

Mum had finally been coaxed into taking JJ home for dinner and a nap.

Nolan left too, promising he’d be back in the morning with proper coffee that didn’t taste like hot dirt.

Even Em had gone after our fight.

So for the first time since I woke up, I was alone.

Except — I wasn’t.

Because the door creaked open, slow and hesitant.

And there he was.

Cole.

He stepped inside like he wasn’t sure if he belonged here.

Hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie, shoulders tight, jaw clenched a little too hard.

His eyes flicked to mine — and for half a second, something raw and unguarded cracked through before he looked away.

"Hey," he muttered. Voice rough.

Just one word, but it made my chest twist in a way I wasn’t ready for.

I swallowed. My throat still felt like sandpaper.

"Hey," I rasped back.

He hovered by the door for a beat, as he might bolt.

Then he shuffled in, dragging the visitor chair closer to my bed with a screech that made me wince.

"Sorry," he muttered, wincing too.

Awkward silence stretched between us.

Thick and loaded.

The hum of machines filled the space where words should’ve been.

Cole cleared his throat. His fingers fidgeted with the frayed edge of his hoodie.

"You look... better. I mean, you look like hell, but, you know... less like you’re dying."

His attempt at a smile fell flat.

I let out a soft, breathy laugh that hurt my ribs.

"Thanks, I guess."

More silence.

But under my skin, that ghost sensation was back.

The weight of a hand that held mine longer than a friend would.

The brush of lips against my knuckles, soft and trembling.

And I knew.

It was him.

I watched him now — the way his eyes kept darting anywhere but at me.

The way his leg bounced, like he couldn’t sit still.

The way his throat bobbed when he swallowed hard.

I wet my lips, my voice hoarse as I pushed out the question hanging between us.

"Were you here? Before? When I was… out?"

His knee stopped bouncing.

His whole body went still.

Slowly, his eyes lifted to mine.

And that raw, n***d thing was back — sitting heavy in his gaze.

"Yeah," he said quietly.

"I came. A few times."

His hand — the same hand I felt holding mine in the dark — flexed on his thigh.

Open, then closed.

Like he remembered too.

I swallowed hard. My chest tightened.

"Did you—" I broke off, throat burning. I couldn’t say it out loud.

Did you kiss my hand?

Did you whisper things you didn’t mean for me to hear?

Cole’s jaw worked like he was grinding down words he couldn’t say.

His eyes dropped again.

"I just… I needed to see you were okay."

Deflection.

But it wasn’t nothing.

Not with the way his voice cracked on "needed."

I let my head fall back against the pillow, eyes slipping closed for a beat.

Trying to steady the swirl in my chest.

Because it wasn’t just gratitude.

It wasn’t just friendship.

It was something else.

Something that made my skin heat and my heart race in ways I wasn’t ready to admit.

When I opened my eyes, Cole was watching me.

Wide-eyed. Bare.

Like he was terrified, I’d call him out, but more terrified, I wouldn’t.

His voice was tight when he spoke again.

"I thought we lost you, D."

And there it was — that nickname.

Soft and shaky.

The one only he used now.

My heart clenched so hard it hurt.

"You didn’t," I whispered.

His shoulders sagged like I’d just cut a string holding him upright.

He laughed — breathless and broken.

"Yeah. I didn’t."

For a moment, the room went still again.

Just me.

Just him.

And everything unspoken thickened in the air between us.

He shifted forward like he wanted to reach for my hand.

Then stopped.

Fist clenching against his knee.

His face twisted — frustration, guilt, longing — all tangled into one.

"I should go," he said suddenly, standing so fast the chair scraped loudly against the floor.

"Let you rest."

But I caught his gaze before he could bolt.

Held it.

Felt that invisible thread snap taut between us.

And I knew.

This wasn’t over.

Not even close.

"Cole—"

His name left my lips before I could stop it.

He froze.

Shoulders tight.

Not turning back, but not walking away either.

My voice shook.

"Thank you."

He let out a slow, shaky breath.

Nodded once, sharp and pained.

Then he slipped out the door without another word.

And I lay there, heart pounding, hand still tingling with the memory of his touch, knowing nothing would be the same again.