Chapter 12 – The Thing We Don’t Say

"Eva Monroe's Point Of View''

The hospital smelled like sterilized fear.

The stark white walls, the harsh fluorescent light, and the soft, constant buzz of machines felt all too familiar. I spent the night pacing my hotel room like a caged animal, anxiously waiting for dawn. I was longing for something—anything—to ease the tight knot in my chest.

.It didn’t.

The front desk directed me to a private floor reserved for Cassian’s people. A silent elevator ride later, I was led into what looked more like a penthouse suite than a waiting area. Velvet chairs. Sparkling water. Gold fixtures.

She was nestled in the corner, wrapped in a cream trench coat adorned with gold buttons, her legs crossed with grace. Her fingers glided over a silk cushion as a nail technician expertly shaped her index finger into a flawless, almond-like point.

Cassian’s sister.

She didn’t look up when I stepped in. Just kept texting with one hand while the other was buffed to perfection.

I hovered for a moment, then cleared my throat. “Um… excuse me. Do you know where Cassian is?”

No response. Not even a glance in my direction.

I shifted awkwardly, folding my arms to keep my hands from shaking. “Sorry, I— I was just wondering if you knew where he might be?”

Still nothing. Just the slow, grating drag of a nail file that suddenly felt louder than it should.

Heat crept up my neck. I didn’t want to cause a scene, but the silence made me feel stupid. Like I didn’t belong here.

“I… I guess you’re busy,” I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper.

She finally looked up. Her gaze was sharp, calculating. “He’s a grown man. If you’re that desperate to keep tabs on him, maybe you should check his schedule.”

The nail tech let out a chuckle, a low, mocking sound that crept under my skin like a splinter. I didn’t respond. Not to either of them. I just turned, walked out, and slammed the door hard enough to make her jump.

Screw decorum.

I spotted a woman in a tailored uniform by the elevator—one of Cassian’s assistants, maybe. She straightened the moment I approached.

“Please,” I said, trying not to let my frustration bleed out. “Where is Mr. Cassian?”

She hesitated a moment, then nodded. “The meditation garden. Two floors down. He’s alone.”

Of course he was.

The garden was nestled behind the east wing, and as soon as I stepped through the glass doors, the rich aroma of damp earth and freshly trimmed hedges enveloped me. There he was, by the koi pond, perfectly still on a gracefully curved stone bench. Head bowed. Shoulders slightly hunched. A paper bag of pastry crumbs in his lap, fish circling at his feet like hungry ghosts.

For a second, I just watched him. And it struck me—how small he looked in that moment. Not weak. Just… human. It was as if the world had finally paused, giving him a moment to truly feel the weight of everything around him.

“Cassian,” I said quietly.

He didn’t jump. Just turned his head and met my eyes. There was something unreadable in his face. A shadow I couldn’t name.

“I was looking for you,” I said.

He gestured vaguely to the koi. “They like croissants. Who knew?”

I sat beside him. Close, but not touching.

“You didn’t tell me,” I said. My voice broke more than I wanted it to.

He looked back at the water. “Didn’t need to.”

“Yes, you did.” I felt a lump in my throat as I swallowed hard. “You moved Liam to a private specialist wing. You pulled strings. You got him the best treatment”

His jaw ticked.

“He deserved it.”

“I didn’t see that coming from you.”

“I know.”

I turned to face him fully. “But you did. You did it anyway. Why?”

He shook his head. “Don’t turn this into something it’s not, Eva.”

I brushed that off. “I thought I was going to lose him,” I whispered. “I’ve watched people go. People I couldn’t save. I know what it’s like to see someone slip away.”

Finally, he met my gaze.

“And I can’t go through that again. Not with him. And definitely not with you.”

The silence that hung between us was heavy and uncomfortable. He let out a slow, deep breath.

“You don’t owe me anything,” he said.

“But I do.” I fought to keep my voice steady. “Not because of money or guilt. It’s because you’ve been there for me in a way no one else has. I can’t just stand here and pretend that didn’t matter.”

He turned his attention back to the water, as if the fish might offer him an escape.

I leaned closer.

“You saved my brother, Cassian. Let me try to save you.”

His lips parted, then pressed together again. The turmoil in his eyes was clear—he was coming apart, silently, right in front of me.

I didn’t press. I just waited.

Finally, he said, “Trying never worked for me.”

I answered without missing a beat. “Maybe it’s not about working. Maybe it’s about not giving up.”

Another pause. Then—just a nod. Barely there. But it was enough.

“You’ll talk to your doctors?” I asked.

His voice was rough. “Yeah.

“I’ll talk to them.”

I didn’t need to say anything more. It was enough.

We lingered in silence for a bit, watching the koi glide like shadows just below the water’s surface.

Then, feeling the weight of my thoughts, I finally whispered, “I’m not ready to lose you. Not now. Not ever.”

His phone buzzed, and as he glanced at the screen, the warmth in his expression faded away.

“I have to go,” he said, rising suddenly.

“What is it?”

He didn’t answer.

“Cassian?”

“Something’s happened.”

Then he walked away.

And this time… I didn’t know if he was coming back.