She had never seen Fitch so vulnerable before.

Fitch was always the epitome of pride and cold detachment, especially towards women, never showing a hint of mercy.

But here he was, collapsed beside her, silently breaking apart.

Zoey tried to pull her hand away, but his grip was unyielding.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, Zoey."

"Honey, I'm sorry."

He kept apologizing, holding onto her hand as if letting go was not an option.

Zoey was just too exhausted. She had lost track of how many times he had said sorry or how long he had been crying.

Her eyes stung, maybe from the harsh lighting, so she closed them again, quickly drifting off to sleep.

When she awoke, Fitch was still by her side, but now asleep.

The doctor was there, changing her bandages, and when he saw her attempt to free her hand, he quickly intervened.

"Mr. Haskins hasn't rested for four days. Let him sleep a bit longer."

Blinking in surprise, Zoey listened as the doctor continued.

"Four days and nights, without a wink of sleep. He'd collapse if he pushed any further. Let him sleep; he's genuinely worried about you."

respond, Zoey, too tired herself and nursing a headache, just

finished with the bandages and checked her condition, assured her she was going to be fine

truly exhausted, still deep in

the window, where the sunset painted the

once more, losing track of time until she

resting, don't wake

"Is mommy okay now?"

in the hospital for a

Feeling

as

her, Zoey didn't

eyes, still

somewhat groggy. Conte bet

a small hand took hers, placing something in her

have been a piece

"Mommy, get well soon."

and she swallowed hard, slipping

up again,

much stronger, she tried to sit up, only

she looked away,

hooked her

a pillow behind

she

and then served

bow of porridge, spoon

ent

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