Don’t leave me. Not ever. –Liana
Liana
I was preparing for my lessons when the call came.
The window was open. The breeze was soft. I was humming without realizing it.
And then my phone rang.
Alex.
I answered casually. “Hey—”
“Liana,” she said, and something in her voice stopped me cold. “Are you free right now?”
“Uh… yeah, why?”
She hesitated. Then: “Elias is at Saint Andrew’s Medical Center. He got hurt on duty.”
The world went still.
“What?” My voice cracked. “What happened? Is he—?”
“He’s not—don’t panic—he’s okay, but—”
I didn’t hear the rest.
I grabbed my bag, keys, phone. Ran out of the door.
Because not him.
Please not him.
Anyone but him.
The world can’t take him away from me.
The cab felt too slow.
My fingers trembled on my lap. My knees bounced. I couldn’t stay still.
I called his number.
No answer.
I called again.
Voicemail.
I stared out the window as the city blurred past. too bright, too normal, too alive while I was falling apart.
I just realized…I love him so much that I can’t lose him. And I haven’t told him yet.
I haven’t told him how he’s my anchor, my home… my world.
I pressed my hand to my chest and tried to breathe.
It didn’t help.
I ran into the ER, hair a mess, pulse racing.
“Elias Wolfe,” I gasped to the front desk nurse. “Where—where is he?”
She pointed down a hallway. “Last cubicle on the left, but—ma’am, slow down—”
I didn’t slow down. I turned the corner—
And stopped dead.
He was sitting in a wheelchair, left arm in a fresh white cast, sipping cheap hospital coffee with a look of pure annoyance.
His shirt was wrinkled, his temple bruised, but he was alive.
Breathing.
Whole.
I made a strangled sound and ran to him.
He barely had time to react before I crashed into him, arms around his neck, sobbing into his good shoulder.
He froze. “Liana—what—hey, hey—shhh—it’s okay—”
I couldn’t stop. The tears came hard and fast and ugly. My body shook.
I was holding him like the world might try to rip him away from me if I let go.
“I love you.”
“I—” He looked surprised. I didn’t give him time to say it back.
“You can’t leave me.”
“I won’t. I just—”
“You weren’t supposed to get hurt,” I cried. “You’re not supposed to get hurt—”
Elias looked over my shoulder.
“Alex,” he snapped. “I told you not to tell her.”
Alex leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “And what, you were gonna walk in the house with a broken arm and hope she didn’t notice?”
He glared. She shrugged.
“You’re welcome.”
I pulled back, my eyes swollen and my face probably a disaster.
“You can’t not tell me,” I whispered. “You can’t let me find out from someone else that you’re hurt.”
He looked at me like he wanted to say something, then sighed.
“I just broke my arm,” he said gently. “Didn’t want to make you worry.”
I stared at him, still shaking. “I can’t imagine my life without you.”
His lips parted. He didn’t breathe.
“I know it’s just your arm,” I whispered, “but I thought—I thought it might be worse. That maybe you wouldn’t be okay. And I just—I can’t—don’t do that to me.”
He reached up with his good hand and cupped the side of my face.
“Okay,” he said softly. “I won’t.”
Then, after a pause, his mouth twitched. “Also…”
I blinked.
He leaned closer, his voice low and warm in my ear.
“I’m gonna need you to help me shower for the next seven days. Just saying.”
I laughed through my tears. And then I kissed him.
Because I could.
Because he was still here.
