Chapter 20

My Cheating Mate

Emma pov

Three weeks. Jeremy had been unconscious for three weeks, and I'd spent nearly every day sitting beside his hospital bed.

The nurses knew me by name now. They'd stopped questioning why the ex-mate who'd been so publicly wronged kept showing up with books to read aloud, with updates about pack business, with one-sided conversations that filled the sterile silence.

My father had stopped asking too, though I caught him watching me sometimes with an expression I couldn't quite read. Concern, maybe. Or understanding.

"The council met again yesterday," I said, adjusting the blanket across Jeremy's chest. His color was better than it had been—no longer that terrifying gray-pale—but he still hadn't woken. "They're implementing those mate bond law changes we discussed. The ones that allow for dissolution in cases of proven infidelity without requiring mutual consent."

No response. Just the steady beep of the heart monitor, the rhythmic whoosh of the ventilator they'd finally removed two days ago.

At least he was breathing on his own now. That was progress.

"Vanessa's trial is next week," I continued, smoothing a wrinkle from the blanket just to have something to do with my hands. "Your father asked if I wanted to testify. I said yes. She needs to face what she did. To the pack. To us."

*To you,* I didn't add. Because talking about Jeremy in the third person while he was lying right there felt wrong, even if he couldn't hear me.

Could he hear me?

Dr. Reeves said maybe. That coma patients sometimes retained awareness, could process sounds and voices even when they couldn't respond. She encouraged me to keep talking, said familiar voices might help pull him back.

So I talked. And talked. And talked until my throat was raw and my voice gave out.

"Emma?" Aria's voice came from the doorway. She held two cups of coffee and a bag that smelled like the bakery. "Thought you might need sustenance."

I accepted the coffee gratefully. "You're a lifesaver."

"That's what best friends are for." She pulled up a second chair, studying Jeremy's unconscious form. "Any changes today?"

"His heart rate increased slightly when I was telling him about the new training protocols. Dr. Reeves thinks it might be a response to my voice, but it could also just be random fluctuation."

"Or he's annoyed that you changed his training protocols without consulting him," Aria said with a small smile.

Despite everything, I laughed. "Maybe."

Aria was quiet for a moment, sipping her coffee. Then, carefully: "Emma, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Why are you here? Really?" She held up a hand before I could answer. "And don't say it's because he's pack, or because it's the right thing to do. We both know you could fulfill those obligations with a five-minute visit once a week. But you're here every day. For hours. Talking to him like—" She paused. "Like you're still his mate."

The observation hit harder than it should have. Because she was right.

I was acting like Jeremy's mate. Despite the dissolved bond, despite the betrayal, despite three months of carefully constructed distance before the attack.

"I don't know," I admitted quietly. "I should hate him, right? After what he did. I should be happy to let him suffer the consequences of his choices."

"But you're not."

"But I'm not." I looked at Jeremy's face, peaceful in unconsciousness, free from the guilt and regret that had haunted him for months. "Aria, when I pushed him out of the way of that blade, when I took the silver for him, I didn't think about it. I just moved. Instinct."

"The mate bond—"

"The bond was dissolved," I interrupted. "Officially, ceremonially dissolved. But I still saved him. And when I woke up and heard he might die, I—" My voice cracked. "I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think about anything except getting to him, making sure he knew I was okay, that he didn't have to keep fighting if he was too tired."

"You still love him," Aria said softly. Not a question.

"I still love him," I confirmed, the words feeling like both a relief and a condemnation. "I don't know if I can forgive him. I don't know if we can ever go back to what we were, or build something new. But yes, I still love him. I guess I always will."

Aria squeezed my hand. "Love isn't logical. It doesn't follow rules or timelines. You're allowed to still love him even after he hurt you."

"Am I?" I looked at her. "Because it feels weak. It feels like I'm betraying myself, betraying my anger, betraying everything I should feel."

"You're one of the strongest people I know, Em. You left when you needed to. You stood up to him publicly. You've rebuilt your life, found your strength, become a leader in your own right." She gestured to Jeremy. "Being here doesn't make you weak. If anything, it makes you incredibly brave."

"How do you figure?"

"Because it's easy to hate someone who's hurt you. It's safe. Anger protects you." Aria's voice was gentle. "But staying, caring, loving anyway even when you have every reason not to? That takes real courage."

Before I could respond, Jeremy's hand twitched in mine. Not the small, random movements I'd felt before—this was deliberate, his fingers curling slightly around my palm.

"Jeremy?" I leaned forward. "Can you hear me?"

Another twitch. His eyelids fluttered.

"I'll get the doctor," Aria said, already heading for the door.

"Jeremy, come on. Open your eyes." My free hand found his face, cupping his jaw. "Please. I need you to wake up. I need—"

His eyes opened. Unfocused at first, confused. Then they found mine, and something like recognition flickered across his face.

"Emma," he rasped, his voice rough from disuse. "You're... okay?"

Tears I didn't know I'd been holding back spilled over. "I'm okay. You're okay. You're awake."

"How long?" Each word seemed to cost him effort.

"Three weeks. You've been unconscious for three weeks."

He processed this, his expression shifting through several emotions I couldn't quite read. Then his hand tightened around mine—weak, but deliberate.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "For everything. Emma, I'm so—"

"Shh. Don't." I squeezed his hand back. "Just rest. We can talk about everything later. Right now, you need to focus on healing."

"You're here." His eyes were starting to drift closed again, exhaustion pulling him back under. "Why are you here?"

It was the same question Aria had asked. The question I'd been asking myself for three weeks.

I had a hundred answers. Because he was pack. Because he'd saved me. Because it was the right thing to do.

But in that moment, with his hand in mine and his eyes barely staying open, I gave him the truth.

"Because I love you," I said softly. "I shouldn't. I don't want to. But I do."

His eyes widened slightly, surprise and something that looked like hope flickering across his face.

"I love you too," he managed. "Never stopped. Never will."

Then his eyes closed and his breathing evened out—not unconscious, just sleeping. Real, healing sleep.

Dr. Reeves rushed in with Aria, checking monitors and asking questions. But I barely heard them.

Jeremy was awake. He was going to be okay.

And I'd just confessed I still loved him.

Which meant everything was about to get a lot more complicated.

But as I sat there, his hand still in mine, I couldn't bring myself to regret the words.

They were true. For better or worse.

I still loved Jeremy Trent.

Now I just had to figure out what the hell I was going to do about it.