When Hannah finally awoke, she found her hand cradled within another’s grip.

She raised her eyes to meet Bryson’s form, his face buried in his arms, which were resting on her bed, his well-defined hand clasping hers with unwavering support.

His disheveled hair obscured one of his eyes, rendering him a stark departure from the usual image of a CEO, appearing more like a recent college graduate, vulnerable and sincere.

With a delicate and barely perceptible movement of her finger, Hannah roused Bryson from his light slumber.

“You’re awake.

Bryson stirred and hastened to assess Hannah’s condition.

“How are you feeling?”

As he leaned in closer, his handsome countenance filling her vision, Hannah’s words faltered.

“I… I…”

“What’s the matter?”

that Hannah might be unwell, Bryson drew nearer, extending a hand to feel her

you have a

a tingling sensation that prompted

his gaze falling upon her freshly moistened

head slightly,

you like

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bang shattered the moment as Grace forcefully pushed

about Hannah’s accident,

as she took in the ambiguous tableau at the hospital bed and she fell

stepped back, stuttering, “I didn’t see

dispersing the lingering tension

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