ISABELLA
Later that evening, when the exhaustion finally caught up to me, I realized just how dependent I had become.
Christian helped me with everything.
Getting out of bed. Moving around the room. Sitting up.
And then—
“I need to use the washroom,” I mumbled, barely meeting his gaze.
Christian stilled.
For the first time since this entire ordeal, he looked uncomfortable.
“I—” He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. “Are you sure you can do it on your own?”
I glared at him. “No.”
His lips pressed into a thin line.
I knew he wasn’t going to call someone else to help me.
It was him or nothing.
Which meant—
Heat crept up my neck.
“I just need help getting there,” I muttered.
Christian’s jaw tightened, but he nodded.
He helped me to my feet, supporting most of my we
