Panting, Dorothy retraced her steps to the hospital room door, timing herself perfectly to arrive at the ten-minute mark. She pushed the door open.

True to his word, Everett hadn't locked it from the inside.

He emerged from the bathroom, drenched from head to toe, leaving puddles in his wake.

Dorothy knew he wasn't in the mood to talk, so she briskly went to the wardrobe, grabbed a change of clothes, and without waiting for his consent, began peeling off his soaked garments.

Everett didn't say a word, passively letting her strip away his wet clothes and dress him in fresh ones.

Once she was done, Dorothy felt nearly spent.

She wrapped her arms around Everett's waist and whispered, "How about you lie down for a bit, huh?" "You're not gonna ask?" "I'm not asking." She rested her cheek against his chest. "Whatever you found out there, I won't pry. Just tell me if you're hurt, let me put some ointment on, okay?" He shook his head, his large hand pressing hers firmly against his heart.

to check on you?" "Only you can fix me." Dorothy had a sinking feeling that his troubles

only a few days left in her one-month agreement with Jonathan, she didn't want to tear

savor these last

under a thick comforter, then clung to him tightly, sharing

okay?" She didn't insist on applying medicine,

but one thing was sure: something

he had laid on her waist tightened, pulling her entirely into his

quivered, eyes cast downward, "Everett, stop hurting yourself. Abigail and Langston are still waiting

had two kids

intertwined in countless ways; it wouldn't all just end

me alone." "I won't." She freed a hand to stroke his hair. "Sleep, and I promise when you wake up, I'l still be here." Despair clouded Everett's eyes, void of

gazed at Dorothy, then leaned in for

didn't dodge, tilting her head to meet

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