Lara-Jean POV
“You need to sleep.”
Peter doesn’t even look up from where he’s holding my hand.
“So do you.”
“I’m the patient.”
“You’re the reason I can’t sleep.”
The hospital room is quiet now.
Earlier it was full—voices, footsteps, worried faces. Marcus asking questions. Cordelia standing stiffly at the foot of the bed like she didn’t quite know what to do with concern.
Now it’s just us.
Peter in the chair beside my bed. My hand still wrapped in his.
He brings it to his lips and presses a soft kiss against my knuckles.
Every movement careful. Gentle. Like I might break.
“Peter,” I say quietly.
He looks up. His eyes are still red.
“Close your eyes for a while.”
“I tried.”
“And?”
His jaw tightens.
“Every time I do, I see the van.”
My chest aches.
“I see you tied up,” he
