Fighting The Battles
1040 Words
The silence between them stretched, thick with something neither of them wanted to name. Liam’s fingers curled slightly around Khan’s, his grip warm, grounding. For a moment, everything outside this room—Harold, Khloe, the weight of their fake marriage—faded into the background.
Khan exhaled softly, realizing too late how comfortable this felt. Too easy.
She forced a small laugh, breaking the tension. “Wow, Liam Carter, are you actually capable of being vulnerable? Should I write this moment down?”
Liam smirked, the seriousness in his eyes dimming just a little. “Don’t get used to it.”
Khan rolled her eyes but didn’t pull her hand away. “Noted.”
They sat like that for a beat longer, neither quite willing to move. But then reality started creeping back in—the games, the lies, the contract.
Khan sighed, finally withdrawing her hand. “You should get some sleep.”
Liam watched her for a second longer before nodding. “Yeah. You too.”
Except neither of them moved.
Because sleep wouldn’t come easy tonight.
The next morning, Khan woke up to the sound of her phone buzzing on the nightstand. She groaned, reaching blindly for it.
Her eyes barely adjusted to the screen before a sharp fear jolted her awake.
Unknown Number
“This is Dr. Reynolds from New York Memorial. Ms. Coco, you need to come to the hospital immediately. It’s about Mei.”
Khan sat up so fast she nearly fell off the bed. “What happened? Is she okay?”
There was a pause. Then: “She took a turn for the worse last night. We’ve done everything we can, but you should be here.”
The words slammed into her like a freight train.
No. No, no, no.
Not Mei.
Her hands shook as she scrambled out of bed. “I’m coming. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
She barely registered the doctor’s response before she hung up, her heart racing.
She had to go. Now.
She turned to grab her suitcase when she realized—Liam.
He was standing in the doorway, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
“How bad is it?” he asked quietly.
Khan swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Bad.”
Liam didn’t hesitate. “I’ll have the jet ready in fifteen minutes.”
Khan blinked. “Liam, I—”
His gaze softened just a fraction. “Just let me do this, Khan.”
Her chest tightened. But she didn’t argue.
Because, right now, she couldn’t afford to.
The flight back to New York felt like an eternity.
Khan sat in silence, staring out the window, her fingers twisting in her lap.
Liam sat across from her, watching, waiting. He didn’t push, didn’t force her to talk. But his presence was steady, unwavering.
Somehow, that made it easier to breathe.
When they finally landed, a car was already waiting for them. Liam took her bag without a word, guiding her toward the vehicle.
It wasn’t until they pulled up in front of the hospital that the fear fully settled in.
Khan felt her breath hitch.
She had been here before. Too many times. But this time felt… different.
This time, she wasn’t sure if she was walking into goodbye.
She barely registered Liam’s hand on her back as they entered the hospital. The sterile smell, the bright lights—it all blurred together.
She made it to Mei’s room in record time, but the second she stepped inside, she froze.
Mei was hooked up to too many machines. Her small frame seemed even frailer, her breathing shallow.
Dr. Reynolds stood by her bedside, clipboard in hand. When he saw Khan, his expression softened.
“She’s stable for now,” he said gently. “But it was close.”
Khan swallowed hard. “How close?”
Dr. Reynolds sighed. “We had to put her on oxygen support. Her body isn’t responding to the treatment as well as we hoped.”
Khan clenched her fists, trying to keep it together. She couldn’t lose her. She couldn’t.
She stepped closer, her heart twisting painfully. “Mei?”
Her sister’s eyes fluttered open, barely, but when she saw Khan, a weak smile touched her lips.
“Hey, stupid,” Mei rasped.
Khan let out a choked laugh, blinking rapidly. “Hey, brat.”
Mei’s gaze flickered past her, landing on Liam, who stood silently in the doorway.
Her lips twitched. “You brought the rich guy.”
Liam let out a soft chuckle. “Good to see you too, Mei.”
Mei’s eyes drifted back to Khan, searching. “You okay?”
Khan bit her lip, forcing herself to nod. “I should be asking you that.”
Mei hummed sleepily. “Still fighting.”
Khan felt a lump lodge in her throat. “Yeah, you are.”
Mei’s fingers twitched, reaching weakly for Khan’s hand. Khan took it, squeezing gently.
And for the first time in weeks, Khan let herself cry.
Later that night, after Mei had drifted back to sleep, Khan stepped out into the hospital hallway, emotionally drained.
She found Liam leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone.
When he saw her, he pocketed it and straightened. “How is she?”
Khan let out a shaky breath. “She’s strong. But… I don’t know how much longer she can keep fighting.”
Liam nodded, his gaze steady. “And you? How are you holding up?”
Khan let out a dry laugh. “I’m not.”
Liam didn’t say anything. Instead, he reached out and—without hesitation—pulled her into his arms.
Khan froze.
His warmth surrounded her, steady and grounding, and for some reason, she didn’t pull away.
For the first time in forever, she let herself lean on someone.
Just for a moment.
Just for this.
The next morning, Khan woke up to find Liam gone.
Her heart lurched.
Had he left? After everything?
But then her phone buzzed.
Liam: Had to step out. Call me if you need anything.
Khan exhaled, her heart settling.
Then she noticed the coffee on the nightstand. Still hot.
A small, quiet gesture.
But somehow, it meant everything.
- Writer
