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

bandages and checked her condition, assured her she was going to be fine before

was truly exhausted, still deep in

window, where the sunset painted the sky, its warm glow

losing track

resting, don't

"Is mommy okay now?"

to stay in

Feeling

as if

her, Zoey didn't

her eyes,

somewhat groggy. Conte bet

hand took hers, placing

have been a

"Mommy, get well soon."

pang, and she

she woke up again, it was

she tried to sit up, only for Fitch to support

and she looked away, "I can

her fingertips, not saying

pillow behind her

she

and then served

bow of porridge, spoon

ent

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