Chapter 171
Angela POV
I stirred awake to the rhythmic beep of machines, my eyelids heavy as if weighed down by the night itself.
A dull ache pulsed in my skull, sharp and unrelenting. As my blurry vision sharpened, I saw Sean perched beside my bed, his tired eyes locked on me with a quiet intensity that made my skin prickle.
Memories flickered back-his apartment, William's rage, the searing pain that followed.
"You're awake," Sean murmured, his voice low, almost a caress in the stillness.
I tried to sit up, but a jolt of pain pinned me back. Panic clawed at my chest. "Aria and Ethan-where are they?" My voice scraped out, rough and raw.
"They're safe," he said, gesturing across the room. I followed his gaze, relief flooding me as I spotted my twins curled together on a sofa, cocooned under a blanket and his coat, their small faces peaceful despite the chaos.
"What time is it?" I whispered, careful not to disturb them.
"Almost two in the morning," Sean replied. "You've been out for about four hours." He leaned closer, concern softening his features. "How do you feel? Dizzy?"
I turned my head away, avoiding his gaze. "Seeing you makes me uncomfortable."
He nodded, easing back just enough to give me space, though his presence still lingered too close, too warm.
"So?" I pressed when he didn't speak. "Are you leaving?"
"Not until I know you're okay," he said, his tone firm yet edged with something softer.
He reached for the water pitcher. "Thirsty? Let me pour you some."
"No," I snapped.
"You haven't eaten all night," he countered, undeterred. "You've been unconscious for hours. You need something."
"I don't want water. I don't want food. I don't want you here." I met his eyes, defiant. "If you feel guilty about tonight, call Christopher. Tell him to come."
A flicker of anger flashed in his gaze, quickly masked. "Not possible," he said, voice icy.
"Then stop bothering me," I shot back, turning away.
I reached for the call button, desperate for a nurse to shoo him off, only to realize my right arm was swathed in bandages, immobile. The memory hit-shielding Aria, tumbling, my arm twisting beneath me. Pain flared through my shoulder and skull as I moved, a gasp slipping out as my body trembled.
Sean was at my side in an instant. "Did you hurt yourself again? Are you in pain?"
"Don't touch me," I hissed through gritted teeth. "Why act concerned now? If you hadn't taken my kids, I wouldn't have chased you down. I wouldn't have met your charming friends, and I wouldn't be here."
His face softened, guilt shadowing his eyes. "You're right. I screwed up, and you got hurt because of it. I'm sorry." He raked a hand through his tousled hair. "But right now, you need rest. We'll sort the rest later, when you're better. Okay?"
His calm reason stoked my irritation. I didn't want him sensible or gentle-I wanted my anger, a shield against the pull I still felt toward him.
The room tilted faintly, my headache worsening. I needed the bathroom but loathed asking him for help. Finally, I had no choice.
Bracing my left arm, I tried to stand. The world swayed, my vision blurring.
Before I could collapse, Sean's arms caught me, strong yet impossibly tender.
His chest pressed against mine, solid and warm, his breath grazing my ear. Despite my fury, the heat of his body seeped into me, coaxing a shiver I couldn't suppress. His hands, firm on my waist, held me steady, and for a fleeting moment, I wanted to sink into that comfort.
"What are you trying to do?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble against my skin. "Let me help you."
"I don't need your help," I lied, even as the room spun.
His arm tightened around me, a possessive yet gentle grip. "You need the bathroom, don't you?" When I didn't reply, he nodded. "I'll carry you."
Before I could protest, he scooped me up, his muscles flexing beneath my weight. My body stiffened-pain and his closeness warring within me-but his warmth enveloped me, his scent stirring memories I'd tried to bury.
"Put me down," I demanded, my voice faltering as dizziness surged.
"Be still," he whispered, his lips too close to my temple. "Do you want to wake the kids?"
I glanced at Aria and Ethan, still asleep, and went quiet. Sean carried me to the bathroom, his steps deliberate, his hold unwavering. At the door, I tensed.
"You can leave now," I said, sharper than intended.
He hesitated, worry etching his face, then set me down with care. His hands lingered a moment too long, brushing my hips.
As he moved to unbutton my pants, his fingers grazing the fabric, I yelped, "What are you doing?!"
He froze, raising an eyebrow. "Helping you. Your arm's busted, remember? What did you think I was doing?"
Heat flooded my cheeks, my pulse racing. "I-I can manage. Get out!"
He chuckled softly, stepping back to the doorway but not leaving entirely. I shot him a look over my shoulder. "What, are you going to watch me piss? Go further!"
He moved back a few more steps, just enough to keep me in sight while giving me some privacy.
I closed the door and leaned against it, catching my breath. In the mirror, I saw my messy appearance - a bandage on my forehead, tangled hair, and dark circles under my eyes.
After using the bathroom, I splashed water on my face with my good hand, careful not to wet the bandage. I took a deep breath and prepared to face Sean again, determined to walk back to bed on my own.
Near the bed, he appeared beside me. "Let me help," he said, reaching out.
"Don't touch me," I snapped, though my strength was fading. "I'm fine. It's my arm and head, not my legs."
He sighed, then swept me up again, ignoring my weak protests. His arms cradled me, warm and sure, and I was too exhausted to fight the way my body relaxed against his.
"This isn't necessary," I mumbled as he lowered me to the bed.
"Maybe not," he said, his breath brushing my cheek, "but it's easier this way."