Chapter 41 Still here.

Chapter 41 Still here.
Maya's POV

No one spoke. Just Papa's words which hung in the air.

"You care about my daughter."

Why isn't Justin denying it? Why is he just standing there?

Why does that make my heart race?

I couldn't look at Justin. If I looked at him, I would combust. I would burst into flames right there in front of my father, who was supposed to be resting, who was supposed to be avoiding stress, who was supposed to be asleep instead of playing matchmaker from his hospital bed.

Papa, please.

Please stop looking at him like that.

Please stop looking at ME like that.

Justin cleared his throat.

I risked a glance.

His expression was calm, like he hadn't just been accused of caring about me. Like my father hadn't just called him out in front of both of us.

But his ears were red.

His ears are red.

He's not as calm as he looks.

That means…

No.

Don't think about what that means.

"You look at him too much," Papa said.

My head snapped toward him. "Papa."

"What?" He was smiling now. The man who had almost died hours ago was lying in a hospital bed, smiling at me like I was five years old and he'd caught me with my hand in the cookie jar. "I am sick, not blind."

"Papa, please…"

"You should eat something." He turned to Justin. "Make sure she eats something. She forgets when she's worried."

Justin nodded. "Yes, sir."

Yes, sir?

He said yes sir?

Like he's…Like he's already…

No.

Ohh, shut up Maya.

This isn't happening.

Papa studied Justin for a long moment. The humor faded from his face, replaced by something quieter, something more serious.

"So," he said slowly. "How did you meet my daughter?"

Oh no.

No, no, no.

Papa, please don't make him…

"She was crying on the bleachers," Justin said.

I froze.

He remembers.

He actually remembers the way he found me, the way I was falling apart and how he sat down next to me and didn't leave.

Justin's voice was quiet and careful, like he was handling something fragile.

"It was right after the pictures came out. The whole school had turned against her. She was alone." He paused. "I sat down next to her, asked if she was okay."

He remembers every detail, like it mattered.

"She didn't answer," he continued. "So I stayed."

Papa's eyes moved between us. Reading and analyzing.

"And now?" he asked.

Justin was quiet for a moment.

"Now I'm still here."

The words landed somewhere deep in my chest. Somewhere I'd been trying to protect.

He's still here.

But what does that mean? What does any of this mean?

Why hasn't he mentioned Cynthia?

Why hasn't he explained the ring?

Why is he just standing there, looking at me like…

Like…Like I'm not just a project. Like I'm not just someone to save.

Like…

Stop. Stop looking at him.

You're going to give yourself away.

Papa's tired mouth lifted, just slightly.

"I see," he murmured.

What does he see? What does he think he sees? Why does everyone keep saying that and never explaining what it means?

Justin shifted his weight and rubbed the back of his neck. His ears were still red.

He's nervous.

I've never seen him nervous before.

Not like this.

Not…Not because of me.

Is he nervous because of me?



Papa fell asleep again. It happened slowly. His eyes drooped, his breathing evened out and the fight drained from his face, leaving behind only exhaustion.

I sat in the chair beside his bed while Justin stood by the window.

Neither of us spoke.

The silence was different now. It was full of things neither of us knew how to say.

I stood up.

Justin looked at me.

"I'll walk you to the hallway," I said.

He nodded.

The hallway was cold. The lights were dimmer now, the nurses' station was empty. Somewhere in the distance, a phone rang.

I stopped walking and we stood there. Facing each other. The silence pressing in from all sides.

Ask him.

Ask him now, before you lose your nerve.

"Why didn't you deny it?"

The words came out quieter than I intended. Almost a whisper.

Justin tilted his head. "Deny what?"

"What my father said."

He didn't deny it. He just stood there, with his red ears and his calm face and his…

His everything.

The pause stretched between us.

Then Justin looked at me. His eyes were soft and tired. But there was something else underneath them now. Something I hadn't seen before.

Something that made my heart stop.

"Because I didn't want to."

The words hung in the air.

Because I didn't want to. Not "I don't know what you're talking about."

Not "It's complicated."

Not "She's just a student."

"Because I didn't want to."

He looked away for the first time all night.

What does that mean? What is he saying?

Is he saying…

Does he…

Does he feel…

No.

He can't. He said younger sister.

He meant it.

Didn't he? Didn't he mean it?

I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't think.

I couldn't do anything except stand there, in the cold hospital hallway, looking at a man who had just admitted…without admitting anything at all, that he cared about me.

What am I supposed to do with that?

What am I supposed to say?

What am I supposed to…

"Maya."

His voice was soft.

I looked up.

He was closer than I remembered.

When did he get closer? And why is he looking at me like that?

Why isn't he looking away?

Why…

"Go back to your father," he said quietly. "He needs you."

He needs you.

What about you?

Do you need me?

Or am I just…Just…

"Okay," I whispered.

I turned and walked back toward the room.

I didn't look back, but I felt his eyes on me the whole way.