All Chapters of THE WEIGHT OF LOVING YOU: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

JESSICAI jolted awake like someone had yanked me out of a dream and slammed me back into reality. Not soft. Not slow.My heart pounded against my ribs, too loud, too fast. Machines beeped in protest, blinking at me like I’d startled them too.My eyes darted around the pale room. White sheets. Pale blue curtains. A soft but sterile glow from the ceiling light. The distant smell of antiseptic."Hospital," I murmured, my throat dry and scratchy like I’d swallowed sandpaper.I turned my head and saw him—Liam. His head rested near my hand on the bed, his eyes still closed, like he’d been holding my hand in his sleep.He looked... tired. Not his usual polished self. His shirt was wrinkled, and his tie hung loose around his neck. His stubble had come in, just enough to make him look scruffy. My scruffy husband.I stared at him, heart tight and confused. He hadn’t just dropped by. He’d stayed.With shaky fingers, I reached out and brushed his hair back, soft and thick. His brows pinched, his

LIAMI jolted awake to the sound of metal clattering.For a second, I didn’t know where I was.My heart was racing, my eyes blinking rapidly as I tried to place myself in the space.It took a few disoriented seconds, but then the sterile white walls, the faint antiseptic smell, and the rhythmic beeping of machines grounded me. I turned my head slightly and saw her.Jessica.My wife.Even in this state, lying still with wires and tubes attached to her body, she looked like the center of the world.Her face was pale against the pillow, her breathing shallow but steady. The monitor tracked each breath and each beat of her heart, and somehow that sound was the only thing keeping me from falling apart.She stirred against the pillows, her head shifting slightly, her lips parting like she had been holding on to sleep just to avoid looking at me. Like she needed distance, even unconscious. Or maybe she sensed me. Maybe she always had.I moved towards the little table where the nurse had drop

JESSICA His mouth took mine like he hadn’t kissed anyone in years. Like he’d forgotten how to be soft. It was tongue and teeth and all. A kiss that tasted like a grudge. Like guilt. Like he needed to break me before I could break him. I moaned into it. Pathetic and breathless and so gone. My lips parted wider, gave him everything, let him devour me while my knees buckled and my fingers tangled in his shirt like I’d die if he let go. He didn’t. His body slammed into mine, pinning me to the bed. His hand curved around my jaw, tilting my head. Holding me exactly where he wanted me while his other hand slipped under my hoodie—fingertips skating over bare skin that was already burning. “You wore this,” he said against my lips, voice all gravel and grit. “Like you knew I’d lose it the second I saw you.” “I hoped you’d lose it.” He chuckled, dark and dangerous. “Careful what you wish for, baby.” He lifted me. My legs wrapped around him, instinctive, needy, already soaked. I c

Okay, I had to drop this note real quick because… WHAT DO YOU GUYS THINK?! 😭😭😭 Like, is it just me, or did this chapter have you kicking your feet too?! Be honest. Personally? I’m a sucker for yearning. The slow burn. The little touches. The looking-but-not-saying. The “I made you pasta and kissed your shoulder and fed you with one fork like a man possessed by soft husband energy” kind of love??? Ugh. It gets me every. single. time. I’m literally throwing my legs up right now wishing I was in that shower with them — yes, even when the shampoo got in Jessica’s eye. Worth it. But listen, lowkey… I need to know what’s going on in Liam’s mind too. Because this man? All that husband material behavior?? Feeding her. Bathing her. Dressing her. Whispering "You're it for me" like it was nothing??? SIGN ME UP. Anyway, tell me what you're thinking, because I’m not okay. I’m not okay at ALL. Love & longing, — Me, your author who is currently melting into a pillow over this fictional m

JESSICA I practically dragged Ava by the hand into the hospital ward, weaving through nurses and carts and that persistent smell of antiseptic. My heart thudded harder than it should’ve—equal parts guilt and adrenaline.“Let’s go,” I said, breathless. “I’m not letting you play it down anymore.”Ava mumbled something like, “Jess, slow down,” but I wasn’t having it. Not after everything she’d just told me. Not after weeks of me rambling about Liam and stolen kisses and every selfish thought while she carried this in silence.We turned into a private room, and just like that, Ava let go of my hand and rushed forward.“Mom!” she said, voice higher, brighter. “How are you feeling?”Her mother—Mrs. Carter to everyone but me—looked up from the hospital bed, cheeks flushed with life. “Better now that I see you two still joined at the hip.”I laughed, but it caught halfway up my throat. The room was small, clinical, a little too quiet. One glance at the IV line and those scratchy sheets, an