"I..." The word slipped out before I could stop it, but then I let it hang there, useless. My chest felt tight, and the air between us seemed heavier than it had been a moment ago.
So instead of fumbling for words that wouldn’t come, I set the bowl back down and shifted closer to the bed. I reached for the blanket pooled at her waist and pulled it gently up to her chest.
She didn’t resist, but look away, just kept her eyes on the other direction with that same lost expression.
"You should rest," I murmured, smoothing the edge of the blanket with my fingers. "Don’t think about anything right now. Just... rest."
Her lips parted like she wanted to say something, but then she closed them again, exhaling slowly.
I didn’t push. I just reached for the glass of water on the nightstand, poured it halfway, and set it on the table within her reach.
"If you get thirsty later, it’s right here," I murmured, my voice softer now, like even a wrong tone could break her further.
She didn’ t respond and also didn’t touch it. Her gaze seemed fixed on nothing, like she was staring at a point far beyond the room.
I leaned back a little, my hands resting on my knees. For a long moment, neither of us moved. I could hear the faint rhythm of her breathing, uneven at first, then slowing. The quiet creak of the mattress when she shifted slightly was the only sound breaking the stillness.
The air between us felt... fragile. Like if I spoke too loud or made a sudden move, it might shatter completely. I wasn’t sure if my being here was actually helping, or if I was just a reminder of her pain. But leaving her alone didn’t feel right either. The thought of walking out and closing that door on her, on this, felt wrong in my gut.
I sat on the chair at the end of the bed, close enough that she’d know I was there if she needed me, but not so close that she’d feel trapped. My eyes stayed on her, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest, the tiny tremble in her fingers when she brushed her hair back.
Then, my phone buzzed sharply in my pocket, the vibration loud against the stillness that had settled between us. It felt almost intrusive, like it didn’t belong in this moment. Lisa’s shoulders twitched slightly at the sound, but she didn’t at me.
I hesitated before pulling the phone out, half-tempted to ignore it. But Kael’s name flashed across the screen, and ignoring him was never a good idea. With a slow breath, I swiped to answer.
"What is it?" I asked, keeping my voice low, careful, almost as if speaking too loud would shatter something fragile in the air.
"Where the hell are you?" Kael’s voice cracked through the speaker like a whip, sharp, frustrated, impatient.
I turned slightly away from Lisa, lowering my tone even further. "I’m with Lisa."
There was a pause on the other end. A long one. I could almost hear the disbelief dripping through the silence.
Then Kael’s tone shifted, hardening into something that made my jaw tense. "You’re what? Damon, are you out of your mind..."
Before I could defend myself, another voice cut through in the background. Rowan. His voice wasn’t just irritated, it was furious.
"Why is he there?" I could imagine his eyes flashing, his fists clenched, pacing like a caged wolf. "Tell him to get back to the palace immediately. We need to talk about rejecting Lisa and claiming Belinda. No delays."
I closed my eyes for a second, letting the words sink in like cold water down my spine. Reject Lisa. Claim Belinda. Like they were just moves on a chessboard, pieces to be shifted for the sake of strategy.
My gaze slid back to Lisa. She was still lying there, hunched in on herself, like my silence was saying more than my words ever could. She didn’t lift her head. She didn’t need to. I could read the weight pressing on her shoulders without seeing her eyes.
I turned the phone slightly away from my mouth, lowering my voice to the point of almost whispering. "Now’s not the time, Kael."
"You don’t get to decide that, Damon," Kael snapped. "We’re not playing games here. Every second you spend there is another second you’re making things harder for everyone."
Rowan’s voice thundered again from the background, louder this time as if he’d grabbed the phone. "We have waited long enough! She is not your responsibility anymore. You’re making this messy for no reason. End it. Come back now."
End it. The words stabbed deeper than I wanted to admit.
I looked at Lisa again, and for a second, my throat tightened. She still didn’t move, but I could feel her listening, like each muffled word from my phone was cutting through her too. Her fingers had stilled, resting limp in her lap, and the smallest sigh escaped her lips, almost inaudible but enough to tell me she knew exactly what was happening.
"I’ll... handle it," I said finally, though even I didn’t know if that meant what Kael and Rowan wanted or what I wanted.
"No," Kael shot back instantly. "You’ll do it now. Don’t make us come looking for you."
I clenched my jaw, the muscle ticking. "I said I’ll handle it." This time my tone carried an edge that made Kael fall silent for half a second.
"You’re making a mistake," he said finally, low but certain.
The line went dead before I could answer.
For a long moment, I didn’t move. The phone felt heavy in my hand, the weight of their words pressing into my palm. Slowly, I slipped it back into my pocket and forced myself to meet Lisa’s eyes.
She had finally lifted her head, and there it was, the quiet devastation. No tears yet, but her eyes were glossy, holding back a flood she didn’t want me to see. Her lips parted like she wanted to speak, but nothing came out.
"They want you to leave, don’t they?" she asked softly, and somehow her voice was worse than if she had screamed at me.
I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. My silence was enough.