"You're actually here."I didn’t look up as Roman stepped into the room. I didn’t have to. I knew the weight of his presence, the way the air seemed to settle and solidify the moment he crossed the threshold. I was sitting in the same hard-backed chair by my father’s bed, my hand still resting near Savio’s, a silent vigil I hadn’t known how to break. Roman didn’t say a word. He didn't offer a platitude or a scripted apology for the intrusion. He just sat down in the chair beside me, his thigh brushing against mine, and stayed quiet. For the first few minutes, the only sound was the rhythmic, shallow breathing of the man who had built my world and was now, for the first time, looking fragile within it.Savio shifted, his eyelids fluttering open. He looked at me first, his sharp gaze clouded with the haze of medication and exhaustion, and then his eyes drifted to the man sitting at my side. He didn't look surprised. He just looked tired."You came," my father rasped, his voice a ghost
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