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EDEN My nose is itching, and I'm actively holding back a sneeze as the harsh smell of antiseptics in the hospital corridor floods my senses. Jules is sitting in a wheelchair just outside the ICU doors. Her face is puffy and red, wet mascara sliding down her cheeks, her hair falling out of its ponytail in messy strands. Hayden hasn't let go of my hand since we stepped off the elevator. We stop in front of her, and Jules looks up, her eyes welling up with fresh tears. "Hayden—" He drops to one knee in front of the wheelchair right there in the middle of the corridor without hesitation. Then he takes both of her hands in his. "Hey," he says softly. "Hey, Jules. Breathe. Tell me what happened." She hiccups, trying to speak through her sobs. "We were... we were in the conservatory, watering the plants. Mum was on the phone. She just suddenly dropped the watering can. It shattered. She grabbed her chest and fell. I tried to catch her, but she was already on the flo
EDEN Hayden's thumb hovers over the green accept button for a few seconds. Then he answers the call, setting it on speaker and tapping the record button. He proceeds to set the phone flat on the mattress, and lets Rachel's voice fill the quiet hospital room. I love him for that singular action more than I can say. He doesn't try to hide or 'shield' me from this. Rachel's voice comes through the phone, crisp and amused, as if she's calling an old lover. I have the strongest urge to strangle her to death. "Hayden," she purrs. "You didn't miss me?" He doesn't answer right away. His jaw is clenched tight. His free hand finds mine under the blanket and squeezes gently. "I've been sending you emails," she continues. "Little love notes and memoirs. You never replied. That's not very polite." Hayden's thumb strokes across my knuckles. "I've been busy," he says calmly. I have a feeling those aren't the words he meant to say. He's just trying to keep a lid on his gr
HAYDEN She's asleep again, fitful and restless, small whimpers slipping out every few minutes as though she's trapped in a nightmare she can't wake from. She's thrown up twice already. Her skin is clammy now, pale except for the fever flush on her cheeks. She's shaking even in sleep. Every breath sounds labored. Her pulse under my fingers is too fast, and I know that this isn't just stress or exhaustion. Something is wrong. I can't just sit and watch. So I message Marcus to get the car ready. I lean down, brush her damp hair off her forehead, and press my lips there. She's on fire. "Eden," I whisper. "Baby, we're going to the hospital." She doesn't wake up fully, she just lets out a small, unhappy sound. I don't wait for permission. I slide my arms under her and lift. She's limp, her head lolling against my shoulder, her breath hot against my neck. I cradle her close, one arm under her knees, the other supporting her back. Then I stand. She murmurs somethi
EDEN The theater is dim when Dylan leads me inside, the glow from the screen washing the rows of empty seats in pale blue light. It looks... normal. That is if I don't think about the horror that played out in this same place yesterday. Dylan walks beside me with a casual ease that makes my skin crawl. He even holds the door open for me as if this is a real date. My stomach is deeply unsettled. I'm still shaky. The fever humming through my body makes everything feel slightly muted, like I'm floating a few inches above the floor instead of walking. He guides me to the centre row and gestures for me to sit. "Best seats in the house," he says with a grin. I lower myself into the chair slowly, willing the dizziness to pass. Please don't throw up. Please don't throw up. The screen flickers to life just as the previews end. Then the opening scene starts with soft music playing. The first scene is that of a couple laughing in a sunlit park. A romantic movie? Weird.
HAYDEN Juliet left twenty minutes ago, promising to call the lawyers and start damage control. Biscuit is curled in a tight golden ball at the foot of the couch, his ears twitching every time Eden shifts. She's lying on her side under the throw blanket, her knees drawn up, with one hand tucked under her cheek. Her face is pale, her lips pressed thin against the headache she won't admit is getting worse. She ate half the sandwich I made her, mostly to stop me hovering, then said her head hurt. That was ten minutes ago. She hasn't moved since. I crouch in front of her so we're eye-level. "Open," I say gently, holding out the two white pills in my palm. She blinks up at me, her eyes glassy, then she parts her lips. I place the pills on her tongue. She swallows dry at first, winces, then takes the glass from me. She takes small, careful sips as though even swallowing hurts. When the glass is half empty, she hands it back. "Thank you, baby," she whispers. My chest
EDEN The bedroom is soft with morning light, golden stripes slipping through the half-closed blinds and painting lazy lines across the sheets. I awaken slowly with a groan. Hayden is still here in bed with me. His head is tucked under my chin, one arm slung heavily across my waist, the other curled beneath my pillow. His lashes are dark against his cheeks, but the circles under his eyes are more pronounced. He looks exhausted even in his sleep. The sun has crept higher, sunlight shining directly across my husband's face now. Yet, he doesn't stir. I glance at the digital clock on his nightstand, my eyes going wide. 10:54 a.m. I bite my lip, torn. Part of me wants to let him keep sleeping. He needs it so badly I can feel it in the way his body is limp against mine and heavy with a bone-deep fatigue. But the other part is screaming that he's already several hours late for work. I stare at his face. God, he's beautiful. Even while he's wrecked. Even with sh
EDEN The amusement park is loud and alive. I chose this one on purpose. Hayden hates the Ferris wheel. Always has, even back in high school. I remember a lot of things I wish I could forget. We left the island for this visit. The numbing cream I’d applied earlier still works. Yay, no m
HAYDEN "Because I can't stop wanting you.” The words tumble out of me before I can cage them. Her eyes widen with shock, fury, and something softer. "I never wanted the contract," I snarl, stepping closer until her back hits the wall. "But the second your father made that offer, I
EDEN I'm perched on the couch scrolling through possible interior decoration inspiration for my million-dollar idea. I resigned from my job at the restaurant. I've been an assistant chef for the longest time, but that's really not what I want to do. The door opens. I don't have to lo
HAYDEN I wake up on the couch early the next morning with my neck stiff. One arm is numb because I apparently tried to use it as a pillow all night. The throw blanket Eden tossed over me sometime after I passed out is bunched around my waist as if she couldn't decide whether to smother me or







