Chapter 55

Cecilia

Two weeks of waiting for her to wake up.

I'd spent more time in that hospital room than anywhere else, sitting in the uncomfortable chair beside her bed, holding her uninjured hand, talking to her even though she couldn't hear me.

The doctors said it might help—that coma patients could sometimes hear voices, that familiar sounds might encourage them to wake up.

So I talked. About everything and nothing. About the weather, about work, about stupid things I'd seen on TV. I told her about Arthur's attempts at cooking breakfast, about how Max hadn't left her side except when the nurses literally forced him to shower.

I told her she needed to wake up because I missed her.

Arthur had been worried about me. I could see it in the way he watched me, the tension in his shoulders when I'd fall asleep in that chair for the third night in a row.

Last night, I'd finally crashed around 2 AM, my head resting on the edge of Alice's bed, and when I woke up, I was back in our villa bedroom, tucked under the covers with Arthur's arm around my waist.

"You carried me?" I'd asked, my voice thick with sleep.

"You were exhausted," he'd murmured, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. "You needed rest."

"But Alice—"

"Is being monitored by an entire medical staff. You don't have to be there every second, Ceci."

But I did. Because Alice had thrown herself in front of me. Because she'd gotten hurt protecting me from Madison's rage. Because I owed her.

My phone buzzed, and I nearly dropped it in my haste to check.

Max: She's awake. Asking for you.

My breath caught. "Arthur—"

"I saw." He was already standing, grabbing his keys. "Let's go."

The drive to the hospital felt endless, every red light an eternity. Arthur drove with one hand, the other holding mine, and I could feel my heart hammering against my ribs.

She's awake. She's okay. She's asking for me.

We burst through the hospital doors, just kept moving, Arthur right behind me, until we reached Alice's room.

Max was standing outside, leaning against the wall, his eyes red-rimmed and exhausted. He looked like he hadn't slept in days—which he probably hadn't.

"Ceci," he said, straightening when he saw me. His voice was rough, raw. "She's—she's really asking for you. She wants to talk to you alone."

I glanced at Arthur, who nodded. "Go. I'll wait here with Max."

I pushed open the door slowly, my heart in my throat.

Alice was sitting up in bed, her head still bandaged, her left arm in a cast resting on a pillow. But her eyes were open, bright and clear, and when she saw me, her face broke into a tired smile.

"Ceci," she breathed.

She felt so small, so fragile, and I had to blink back tears.

"You scared the hell out of me," I sat on the chair beside her bed.

"Sorry," she said, her voice muffled. "Didn't mean to."

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I fell down a flight of stairs," she said, attempting a smile. "Oh wait. I did."

I laughed despite myself, but it came out shaky. "Alice—"

"Max," she said suddenly, her eyes flicking to the door. "Can you—can you ask him to step out? Just for a minute?"

I hesitated, then nodded and stood, walking to the door and opening it. Max straightened immediately, his expression hopeful and terrified all at once.

"She wants to talk to me alone," I said gently. "Just for a bit."

His face fell, but he nodded. "Okay. Yeah. Of course."

Arthur squeezed his shoulder, and the two of them walked down the hallway together, their voices low.

I closed the door and turned back to Alice.

"Thank you," I said quietly, sitting back down. "For what you did. For protecting me."

Alice shook her head, her expression fierce despite her pale face. "Don't thank me. I couldn't just stand there and let her hurt you. I couldn't."

"You could have been killed, Alice."

"But I wasn't." She reached out with her good hand, and I took it, squeezing gently. "I'm okay, Ceci. I'm going to be okay."

I felt tears prick at my eyes again. "I was so scared. When you fell, when I saw the blood—"

"I know." Her thumb brushed over my knuckles. "But I'm here. I'm still here."

We sat in silence for a moment, just holding hands, and I felt some of the tension in my chest finally ease.

"Ceci," Alice said finally, her voice soft. "I need to tell you something."

I looked up at her.

"I'm not leaving Max."

The words hung in the air between us, and I felt my stomach drop. "Alice—"

"I know what you're thinking," she said quickly. "I know you and Arthur have been planning ways to help me get out. And I love you for it. I really do. But I can't."

"Why not?" I asked, trying to keep my voice gentle.

Alice's eyes filled with tears. "I woke up last night. Just for a little while. And Max was there, sitting in that chair, holding my hand. He looked—god, Ceci, he looked so broken. Like he hadn't slept or eaten in days. And when he realized I was awake, he just..." She trailed off, her voice catching.

"He cried," she continued. "He actually cried, Ceci. I've never seen him cry before. And he kept saying he was sorry, over and over. Sorry for being controlling, sorry for not protecting me, sorry for everything."

She looked down at our joined hands. "I called him 'brother' back then. For years, that's what he was to me. And last night, when he was holding my hand and crying, I said it again. 'Brother.'"

"What did he say?" I asked softly.

"He froze." Alice's lips trembled. "He just stared at me, and then he said, 'I don't want to be your brother, Alice. I want to be your husband.'"

My breath caught.

"And then he apologized," Alice continued, tears streaming down her face now. "He said he knew his feelings had ruined my life. That because of him, people were saying I'd seduced my own brother. That he'd made everything harder for me, and he was sorry."

She looked up at me, her eyes pleading. "That's when I wanted to cry, Ceci. That's when I realized—he does love me. Maybe not in the healthiest way, maybe not in a way that makes sense. But he does."

"Love isn't enough," I said gently. "Not if it hurts you."

"I know." She squeezed my hand. "But the doctor told me something this morning. He said Max and you had been here every day. Every night. Even at 3 AM, one of you was always here, making sure I was okay."

Her voice broke. "He said Max hadn't left the hospital except to shower and change clothes. That he'd slept in that chair every single night, holding my hand, talking to me even though I couldn't hear him."

"Alice—"

"I can't leave him, Ceci." The words came out in a rush. "I know I should. I know it would be easier. But I can't. Because somewhere along the way, I fell in love with him too. And I hate myself for it, but it's true."

Before I could respond, the door opened.

Max stood there, his face pale, his hands shaking slightly.