The doctor quickly supported him, "It's alright now. Zoey's got a strong will to live. Just one more month of rest, and she'll be back to her old self." Fitch let out a sigh of relief, tears streaming down his face.

But he didn't feel it, merely pursing his lips twice and hoarsely saying, "Thank you."

Sitting by Zoey's hospital bed, he shakily held her hand and pressed it against his cheek.

Her fingertips were a bit cold, his cheeks were cold too, but only by being this close could he feel that she was still there.

Zoey felt as though she had been in a long, long dream, as if she had witnessed someone else's life, a bleak life, a life without attachments.

She felt like an outsider, watching without any emotion.

Then, a light appeared before her, and she slowly opened her eyes, squinting at the bright lights on the ceiling.

She tried to move her hand, only to find it pinned down, immovable.

Turning her head, she immediately saw Fitch tightly holding her hand.

Fitch's suit was wrinkled, his chin covered in stubble, and his eyes red from sleeplessness.

wake, his

at him, then slowly closed

her. He then hurried to take a shower, wash his hair, shave, and change clothes before sitting back down by the bed. The doctor breathed a sigh of relief, "Zoey should be waking up soon, Mr. Haskins. You should rest a bit; you haven't slept at all. If you faint, she'll worry about you." But Fitch, as if

by holding her tightly

as if he were a

knew he deserved

had been happy these past days, but like a thief, all his happiness felt stolen, always fearing she would remember

an unbearable feeling; only in bed, giving his all, burying himself deep, did he

didn't look at Fitch but stared

hand, kissing

okay? Should

like a

Fitch grew more anxious,

of conversation, but he was never good with words.

been good, visiting you every day, worried

the mention of Nolan, Zoey's eyes flickered

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