Chapter 69

KAIA

I stirred slowly, my eyes cracking open against the dim white light filtering through the hospital blinds. Everything felt hazy. My head throbbed. My lips were dry. I tried to move, but the dull ache across my face made me freeze.

Where the hell was I?

My gaze darted around, taking in the pale blue curtains, the IV line taped to my arm, the faint beep of the monitor beside me. And then I turned my head slightly—just enough to see the figure slumped by the edge of my bed, his forehead resting on the mattress, his fingers curled loosely around my blanket.

Adrien.

Even asleep, his brows were furrowed. His shoulders tensed like he’d been ready to fight someone even in his dreams. Seeing him there—so close, yet clearly exhausted—unraveled something inside me.

And then it all came rushing back.

The rink. The fight. The yelling. Callum’s arm. The pain. The blackout.

I let out a low groan, wincing immediately as fire tore through my jaw and nose.

Adrien jolted up, eyes wide. “Kaia?”

He blinked, disoriented for a second before leaning in, gripping my hand like he was scared to let go.

“You’re awake,” he breathed out, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Jesus, I was so damn worried.”

I tried to say something, but it came out as a broken whimper. My mouth ached too much to form any words. Adrien’s face twisted in panic and he turned toward the hallway.

“Nurse! She’s awake—can someone get the doctor?”

Within a minute, a male doctor walked in, clipboard in hand, a nurse trailing behind him. He offered a kind but professional smile as he stepped closer to my bedside.

“Miss Lilian, glad to see you’re awake,” he began, glancing at my chart. “You’ve suffered a small facial fracture—specifically, your nasal bone and your lower mandible. That’s why your jaw hurts so much.”

I blinked slowly, taking it in.

“The jaw will be wired temporarily for stability. You’ll be on a liquid diet for a few weeks,” he continued, his tone gentle. “Swelling should subside in about five to seven days, and we’ll monitor you closely until then. You’ll be discharged in two to three days once we’re sure there’s no concussion complications.”

I nodded weakly.

The doctor reached into a drawer by the wall and handed Adrien a small dry erase board and marker.

“She won’t be able to talk properly for a while,” he explained. “This should help for now.”

Adrien gave him a quick nod and murmured, “Thank you.”

Once the doctor left, Adrien sat back down beside me and rubbed the back of his neck. He looked like hell—like he hadn’t slept in hours.

His hand found mine again, cradling it softly.

“Kaia,” he said, voice trembling slightly, “I’m so fucking sorry. I should’ve gotten to you sooner. I should’ve seen it coming.”

I shook my head slowly, reaching for the board. He handed it over and passed me the marker without hesitation.

I scrawled, Not your fault.

His eyes scanned the words, then flicked up to mine.

“Don’t say that.”

I erased it quickly and wrote again:

It was an accident. He didn’t mean it.

His brows snapped together.

“What?” he snapped. “Why are you defending him? He broke your face, Kaia. You ended up in a hospital bed because of him.”

He stood up abruptly and began pacing the small room, his fists clenching at his sides.

“I don't fucking care if he didn't do it on purpose. You don’t get to hurt someone like that and walk away as if it never happened. You don’t.”

I closed my eyes for a second. A tear slipped from the corner and traced down toward my temple. My hand trembled around the board.

I understood. I did. His anger was valid. And yet... so was the part of me that remembered how broken Callum had looked. He hadn’t swung at me. It wasn’t meant for me. But I still paid the price.

And now Adrien was spiraling again, his guilt twisting into rage.

I slowly reached for his hand.

He stopped pacing and looked down at me, chest rising and falling like a storm.

The truth was… I couldn’t bear the thought of losing Adrien to his own anger. Not when all I wanted now was peace. To heal.

And to be with him, without violence hovering over us like a curse.

The silence in the room didn’t last long.

The door creaked open, and suddenly—before I could fully register what was happening—my mom rushed in like a gust of wind, her purse slipping from her shoulder and her eyes wide with panic.

“Kaia!” she gasped, already by my side, her arms wrapping around me carefully but tightly, like she needed to physically hold me to believe I was really okay.

Her body shook as she cried.

“I saw what happened—I saw it on the news, baby—Jesus, Kaia... are you okay? Oh my God—look at you, my poor baby—”

I felt my throat tighten at her voice, her panic cutting straight through me, but I couldn’t talk. My jaw ached too much, so I reached for the whiteboard and scribbled quickly:

I'm okay. For now.

She read it, tears slipping down her cheeks.

“I was so scared. Watching it happen... I thought—I didn’t know if you were going to—” Her breath hitched. “I couldn’t get here fast enough.”

I blinked, swallowing the burn of tears in my own eyes, and squeezed her hand weakly.

Then she turned her head and noticed Adrien.

“Oh—I didn’t even see you there,” she said, straightening up, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

Adrien, who had been quiet in the corner, straightened up.

“Hi, ma’am. I’m Adrien.”

She looked at him with gentle curiosity.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Kaia’s mom.”

He nodded politely.

“It’s... really good to meet you, too.”

There was a moment of awkwardness, and I could see her about to ask the usual:

friend? boyfriend? someone from school?

So before she could, I grabbed the board again and scribbled out what I already knew was the truth.

He's my boyfriend.

I passed her the board. She glanced down, read it—and smiled like she suddenly understood something deeper.

“Oh,” she said, then repeated, softer, “Oh.”

Then, to Adrien’s complete surprise, she stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. His arms kind of froze midair like he wasn’t sure what to do, then he hugged her back stiffly.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for being here. For staying with her. It means more than you know.”

He smiled awkwardly. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

Before anything else could be said, the door burst open again and a much louder voice filled the room.

“Oh my God, finally—she’s awake!” Amy charged in, followed by Nate and Amir, all three of them practically running to my bedside.

Amy’s arms were around me before I could even lift my hand to wave.

“I'm so glad you're okay,” she mumbled against my shoulder. “I was so scared for you."

“I'm sorry about what happened to you Kaia,” Nate said, dropping into the chair beside Adrien. “You didn't deserve that.”

Amir nodded silently at the foot of the bed.

“We’re glad you’re okay now.”

I smiled a little and nodded in return, overwhelmed by the warmth they brought with them.

“Oh! Auntie!” Amy turned to my mom and pulled her into a tight hug too.

They exchanged a few words, warm and worried, and I just lay there watching everyone around me with a dazed sort of gratitude.

Then came the question that sliced through the happy noise like a blade.

My mom crossed her arms and looked around.

“So... when are we going after the motherfucker that did this to her?”

The air in the room turned dense. Silent.

Everyone kind of glanced at each other, unsure who should answer.

Adrien was the one to speak, his voice tight.

“Last I heard... Callum walked away free.”

“What?” my mom snapped. “He hit my daughter and he gets to walk away? No. No way. We have to press charges. We have to make sure he pays for this.”

Adrien’s jaw flexed. “Trust me, I want that too.”

He looked right at me then—and I saw it. That fire. That tightly restrained rage just below the surface. He was already playing out the confrontation in his head, probably thinking of how to make Callum bleed.

I reached for the board and scribbled quickly:

No. I don’t want any of you to do anything. Please. Just drop it.

Amy read it and blinked.

“Wait, what? Kaia, are you serious?”

Amir frowned.

“He hurt you, Kaia. That’s not something we should just pretend didn’t happen.”

I wrote again: I’m exhausted. I need rest.

The words worked.

Slowly, reluctantly, everyone took the hint. They exchanged quiet glances, no one fully agreeing but no one willing to argue with me in a hospital bed.

My mom kissed my forehead one more time.

“I’ll be back in the morning,” she whispered.

The door closed again.

And then... finally... it was just me again.

Alone in a room that still smelled faintly of antiseptic and flowers. Alone with the bruises and the silence and the ache in my bones that no one else could feel.

I leaned my head back on the pillow, every muscle in my body sagging with the pressure I’d been holding in. I closed my eyes, just wanting the world to be quiet for a while. I didn’t want to think about Callum, or lawsuits, or revenge.

I just wanted to heal. To move forward.

And maybe—just maybe—leave this pain behind when I finally walked out of this hospital room.