Page 154 of Iced Up Love: Part Two
I try to follow it.
It takes effort.
Too much effort.
My chest still feels tight, like it won’t expand properly, like something is still sitting on it.
“Don’t sit up,” Zach says quietly from my other side, and I don’t even realize I’m trying to move again until his hand is there, steady at my waist, stopping me without forcing it. “You’re going to hurt yourself. Stay still.”
“I need—” I choke, shaking my head, trying to get the feeling out, trying to get away from it.
“You don’t,” he says, calm, certain, his other hand adjusting the pillow behind me, easing me back without letting me collapse. “It’s gone. You’re out. You’re safe.”
Safe.
The word still doesn’t sit properly.
My fingers tighten around Jackson’s hand without meaning to, gripping hard enough that he exhales softly through his teeth.
“Yeah,” he mutters, not pulling away. “That’s it. Hold on. I’m right here.”
My breathing finally starts to slow.
Not properly.
But enough.
Enough that the room starts to come into focus, that the edges stop feeling like they’re moving, that I can actually see them.
All three of them.
Close.
Watching me.
Not leaving.
I don’t realize how much that matters until the panic loosens just enough for something else to take its place.
“You scared the shit out of me,” Jackson says quietly, and his voice cracks just slightly at the end like he didn’t mean it to.
I look at him properly now.
His eyes are red. His jaw tight. Like he hasn’t slept. Like he hasn’t let himself.
“I’m okay,” I whisper, even though it still doesn’t feel entirely true.
Elijah’s expression doesn’t change.
Zach adjusts the blanket over me, pulling it higher like he doesn’t trust it to stay there on its own.
“You’re cold,” he mutters.
“I’m not—”
“You are,” he says, already reaching for something else, already fixing it before I can argue.
The room settles slowly after that.
