𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 [𝟏𝟖+] ✔

54

I'm awake, I want to say. But nothing comes out of my mouth when I try. I know it's him, I know it's my Eric who's carefully taking my hand and kissing my knuckle. I know my boyfriend is sitting beside me, waiting for me to open my eyes. But I can't, it's too bright and sensitive. I'm too exhausted.

The beeping of the machine around me is no longer hammering a hole in my head, and I'm free-falling into oblivion again, trying to throw my hands out to catch something to stop myself from hitting the bottom.

My brain fogs. Like I've been awake for days. I'm just needing a little nap, that's all. I'm being tugged into a deep sleep. I'll wait a moment. I can wait. I have time to wait until I can handle it. I'll feel myself when I wake. It will all feel real when I open my eyes and see blue ones, a smile that melts my heart every time I see it.

Because he never smiles. Not unless it's for me or Orla.

His girls.

I just hope when I do wake, that it wasn't a dream that I escaped, that I'm not in the neurock and living out my desire to be with Eric. Not the monster with silver eyes and blonde hair, touching and hurting me in ways I could never have imagined.

A few minutes later, or is it hours? I've no idea. I manage to crack an eye open against the blinding light, seeing an overhead lamp is on the dimmest setting, the machine's volume turned right down. Or were they always that quiet?

I'd thought I was in the medical building, but I'm in my own bed in the manor with light blue sheets tucked into my sides and equipment crowding the space. Unless they moved me from the white, sterile room? Or was I dreaming that, too? The mattress shifts beside me, and when I manage to turn my head, a gasp drops from my lips when I see Ainsley asleep beside me.

Alive.

Her eyes are sunken and bruised, her nose crooked, her arm in a cast. But she's here. Alive, and lying beside me. Her hair is braided from her face, relaxed and calm.

"Ains," I say her name, my voice croaky and sore. She opens her eyes, blinking a few times, and I grin when her gaze goes wide. "Hey."

"You're awake," she replies in shock, sitting up and turning her body to me. "How do you feel? God, that's an idiotic question! Let me go get the nurse."

"Wait. I thought you were dead." I reach for her, ignoring the painful protest against the stitches that circle my middle fingers and down my palms, where the skin had completely split from my tugging myself free from the hooks trapping me to that nightmare of a bed. "The man said he... You're okay? The baby? Is the baby okay? Orla? Gareth?"

Ainsley smiles, her hazel eyes lining with silver as she holds back tears. "We're all fine, I promise. Gareth is just bruised and pissed off. Orla was in the medical wing for a day, but she's back to her usual self. She was here earlier and asked if she could stay with you and Eric because he's your boyfriend. Richie huffed and Elaine told him to shut it."

I shift in the duvet and wince a little. "I'm sure my dad has a lot to say to me and Eric."

"He wants to wait until you wake up and feel better, but he hasn't killed Eric, so I guess that's a positive. He didn't say anything when we walked in and Eric was lying here next to you."

My heart beats harder than ever, in a good way that makes me warm and... happy. "He was here?"

Ainsley nods. "He hasn't left your side. When we were in the medical building and here. Orla wanted to go for a walk, and Elaine said it would be good if Eric got a breather." An eye roll, and she snorts. "Typical that you wake twenty minutes after he leaves, maybe we should have kicked him out sooner."