*Isabella's POV*
I took a deep breath, trying to wrestle my fucking anger back into its cage. The room felt small, the air thick with everything we hadn't said. After a beat of awkward, heavy silence, Damien broke it.
"I'm going to get something to eat," he said, his voice flat, weary. "You coming, Isabella?"
"No, I'm good," I said, my eyes still fixed on Jacob. "I want to stay here," I added softly.
Damien just nodded, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, and left, the door clicking shut behind him and leaving us.
The second we were alone, Jacob's smirk returned, full fucking force. "Sweetheart," he said, his voice a low, conspiratorial whisper. "If I'd have known that was what it took for you to care this much about me, I would have arranged a hunting accident months ago."
"Don't you even dare joke about this," I snapped, my voice sharp with a fear I couldn't hide. "It's not fucking funny."
His smirk softened into something genuine, something raw. "My sweetheart, I love you," he said, the words so simple, so direct, they hit me with the force of a physical blow.
"I... I know," I said, feeling a hot blush creep up my neck and flood my cheeks. I couldn't meet his gaze for a second.
"They said I can try to stand up," he said, changing the subject with a sudden burst of energy. "You know, it helps."
"They did?" I asked, my eyes widening. "You aren't fucking with me?"
"No," he said, a glint of his usual mischief returning. "Help me?" he asked, holding out his good arm.
"Okay, hold on to my shoulder," I said, moving closer and looping my arm around his waist to help support him. His other hand gripped my shoulder for dear life as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.
"I can't wait to give you a proper kiss," he said with a knowing smirk as I came closer, his face just inches from mine.
"You son of a b..." I was saying, but he was already pushing himself up, bracing his full weight against me. He wobbled a bit, a sudden, dizzying stumble that made me grunt.
"Oops, kinda dizzy," he sighed, a sheepish look on his face.
"Just sit," I grunted, straining under his weight. "You're too damn heavy, you're squeezing me to death." I rolled my eyes, which made him laugh, a real, proper laugh this time.
"Okay, okay," he said, letting me guide him back down to sit on the edge of the bed. "I'm sitting now. Come and give me a kiss."
I walked closer, the exasperation melting away under the intensity of his gaze. I leaned in, letting him claim my lips in a gentle, passionate kiss. It wasn't the frantic, desperate kiss from the penthouse or the bruising, possessive one from the beach. This was different. It was slow and deep, a gentle, passionate kiss that said everything we couldn't. It said, 'I was so fucking scared,' and 'I missed you so fucking much.'
His lips were soft, insistent, a gentle exploration that was slowly turning into something more, something deeper. I was lost in it, lost in him, in the relief of having him here, alive, and kissing me. It was a perfect, fragile moment.
And then, it was shattered.
I heard someone clear their throat. A low, deliberate sound from the doorway.
Damien.
I pulled back so fast I almost stumbled, my cheeks flushed a deep, burning crimson. I turned to him, my heart hammering against my ribs, caught like a fucking teenager.
"I brought you a sandwich," Damien said, his voice completely neutral. He held up a paper bag, his eyes fixed on Jacob, a complete dismissal of what he'd just walked in on. "I didn't know if you're allowed to eat normal food, Jacob."
"It's fine, brother," Jacob said, his voice laced with a weary amusement. He was enjoying this. The bastard.
"Thank you, Damien," I said, my voice a little too high. I walked up to him, needing to bridge the gap, to diffuse the tension. I reached for the bag, but before my fingers could touch it, he dropped it onto the nearby chair.
In one swift, fluid motion, he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me flush against his chest. And then he was kissing me. This wasn't like Jacob's kiss. This was dominating and possessive, a hard, crushing pressure that was less about affection and more about ownership. A stark, unspoken reminder that I was his, too.
And just like that, being in the same room with both of them again was bringing back a flood of memories. The confusion, the desire, the sheer fucking impossibility of it all.
I guess it wouldn't be so bad if I kept them for a little while, I thought, a silent, desperate plea to the universe. The resolve I'd clung to on the plane felt like it was dissolving, melting away under the heat of their combined presence.
Damien finally pulled back, his arm still wrapped possessively around my waist. Jacob was watching us from the bed, a knowing, almost triumphant smirk on his lips. I was caught between them, literally and figuratively. Squished between them one more time. And a part of me felt like I was finally home.
Two days later, the hospital was starting to feel nauseatingly familiar. We were back in Jacob's room, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the floor. Jacob was sitting up in bed, looking a bit more like himself. The constant, low hum of the machines was the soundtrack to our fucked-up reality.
"You know, I have to go back to Raleigh soon, right?" Damien said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between us. He was standing by the window, his back to us, looking down at the city below.
My heart did a little flip. I knew this was coming, but I'd pushed it to the back of my mind. I looked from Damien's stiff back to Jacob's face, saw the flicker of disappointment in his eyes before he masked it. And in that moment, my mind was made up. It was crystal clear.
"I'm sorry, Damien," I said, my voice firm, leaving no room for argument. "But I can't come with you. I will stay here with Jacob." I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the fallout. "If that's an issue, I'll quit my fucking job. I can't go back to work while Jacob is alone here."