Clara froze. "Wait, what did you say?"
Anthony's lips curved into a gentle smile. "I'm at the hospital already. Just give me the room number."
His voice—warm and velvety like aged whiskey—pierced through her gloom like sunlight breaking through clouds.
She mumbled the floor number before hurrying to the elevators, her pulse quickening as she waited.
The doors slid open to reveal Anthony in sleek black casualwear. His breath caught at her appearance—swollen eyes, gaunt features, skin stretched too tight over sharp cheekbones. She looked like a candle burned at both ends.
In three strides, he closed the distance between them. He pulled her close with one arm. "Promise me something," he murmured into her hair. "Next time life kicks you down, you'll call me instead of trying to tough it o
