Chapter 157: Chapter 157: Love Between Breaths
~Evric’s POV~
Then I heard it, a quiet, barely audible whisper.
"Babe..."
My heart leapt. I shot upright, eyes locking on him, relief crashing over me so hard it almost knocked the air from my lungs. His gaze met mine, tired but alive, and the exhaustion I’d been carrying melted instantly into tears.
I clutched his hand tight, staring at him for a long, trembling moment before whispering, "How do you feel now?"
He gave me the faintest smile. "I’m fine. You don’t have to worry. I’m sorry for making you worry."
Only then did I realize tears had already spilled down my cheeks. My chest ached. I lifted his hand gently, kissing the back of it. "I’m sorry, Zayn... I’m sorry."
But he shook his head weakly. "Evric, don’t overthink it. I just wasn’t careful enough."
Those words shattered me. I broke down, crying harder, because the truth burned in my chest, knowing the person who landed him here was someone close, and that I couldn’t say a word yet, was its own kind of madness. Nicki’s betrayal was selfish and cruel, but I couldn’t lose Zayn by exposing it now. Not while he was still fighting to recover.
I said to myself, I would tell him, yes, but only when he was strong enough to hear it. For now, Dean was right: focus on Zayn. Once he was safe and fully aware of your past with Nicki, then you’d deal with Nicki. And I would.
Wiping my tears, I asked softly, "Is there anything you want, babe?"
He gave a faint shake of his head. "I don’t want anything."
I nodded, swallowing back the tightness in my throat, and pressed the call button for the nurse. When they came in and checked him, their voices were calm, reassuring.
"He’s responding well," one of them said.
Relief flooded me, bright and fierce. For the first time since this nightmare began, I felt like I could breathe again.
After the nurse left, the room fell quiet again, just the soft beeping of the monitors filling the air. Zayn turned his head slowly, his tired eyes studying me.
"Babe... you should rest. You haven’t had a proper rest since you got back," he murmured, his voice weak but filled with concern.
I shook my head quickly. "I’m fine, babe."
But he wasn’t convinced. He frowned a little, his hand squeezing mine. "Babe, you look tired. Why not take a proper rest? Lay on the couch," he said, pointing at the hospital couch across the room.
I smiled faintly and shook my head again. "I’m fine, sitting here close to you." I paused, letting the words linger before adding softly, "But if I could have one thing... then I’d be fully recharged and not tired at all."
His brows lifted slightly. "What?"
I leaned closer, my lips curving into a little smile. "A kiss."
For the first time since he opened his eyes, he smiled, genuine and warm, the kind of smile that made my chest loosen. Without hesitation, he whispered, "Come here."
I stood just enough to lean over him, brushing my lips gently against his. The kiss was soft, careful, but it carried everything I felt. When I pulled back, I let out a small breath and said, "Now I’m fully recharged."
He chuckled faintly, his smile still there even in his exhaustion.
"Babe, you should sleep more," I whispered, tucking the blanket around him a little tighter. "I’ll be right here, okay?"
He nodded and, still holding my hand, let his eyes flutter shut.
Before he drifted deeper into sleep, I leaned close and whispered softly, "I love you, Zayn."
Without opening his eyes, his lips curved faintly, and he murmured back, "I love you too, Evric."
I sat there watching him, my chest heavy with emotions. Zayn was stubborn, he always had been. Even now, after everything, he tried to act like nothing scared him. He didn’t want me to see his weakness or worry about him.
But I knew the truth. The way his fingers gripped mine, holding on so tightly, told me everything. That moment when he couldn’t breathe had shaken him more than he wanted to admit.
And as I sat there, I made a silent promise. As long as I was here, Zayn would never have to face that kind of fear alone again.
In the morning, the nurse came in to check on Zayn. She confirmed he was getting better, then asked me to step into her office.
She gave me several pieces of advice reminding me to be extra careful about his food, to never let him "manage" his allergy on his own, but instead take real precautions. She explained different steps I should follow, and I asked her a few more questions to be sure. At the end, I thanked her sincerely.
Before I left, she added, "If he shows zero symptoms by late evening, he can be discharged. But if you feel more comfortable, he can stay one more night for observation."
I told her quickly, "There’s no need to rush. If he needs to stay another day, that’s fine with me."
She gave a slight smile and nodded. "Alright, that will be decided by evening."
"Thank you, nurse," I said sincerely.
"You’re welcome, sir," she replied before dismissing me.
Just then, my phone buzzed with Rogan’s name. A message first. Then another. Then several calls. I ignored them, but finally, after the fifth ring, I picked up.
By then, I had already asked Zayn’s friends to go back home and sent Mr. Karl with them. It was just me and Zayn here now.
On the line, Rogan’s voice came sharp. "Come home. I need you to do something for me."
I tightened my grip on the phone, fighting the urge to refuse. The last thing I wanted was to leave Zayn’s side.
I told him calmly, "I’m busy and I can’t come home today. But I’ll try and come over tomorrow."
He immediately started nagging, his tone sharp. "You’ve been back for three days now, Evric, and I haven’t heard a word from you. I’m only getting reports from Vanya. What exactly is keeping you so busy that you can’t even come to attend to me?"
I pressed my lips together, forcing myself to stay respectful. "I’m really busy, but I’ll find time and come tomorrow." I didn’t want to argue with him, I knew I was wrong. I should have gone to see him, but with Zayn, I hadn’t had the heart to leave. So there was no point in acting stubborn.
But he snapped again. "I asked you, Evric, what are you busy doing? That’s my question."
I exhaled slowly. "Please, Father," I said deliberately, knowing the word Father would soften him a little. "My partner isn’t feeling well, and I need to take care of him. But I promise, tomorrow I’ll come to you."
There was a pause on the line. Then, to my surprise, his voice shifted. "Is it serious?"
For a moment, I was shocked, he rarely asked personal questions, let alone with concern.
"What?" I asked back.
"You said your partner isn’t well," he repeated. "Is it that serious?"
I let out a quiet breath. Rogan, never jokes when it comes to health. "He’s getting better," I assured him.
"Good," he said after another pause. "Then tomorrow, don’t make me call you before you get here."
"Yes, sir. Thank you," I replied quickly before ending the call.
Just then, a knock sounded on the door before it pushed open. I raised my head, half-expecting a nurse, but instead, it was Chrisly.