JAXSON.
The room felt too bright. Too clean. Too still. The beeping of the monitors filled the silence, steady and calm, completely opposite of what was happening inside my chest. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, forcing myself to breathe through the dull ache spreading from my shoulder. The doctors had finally stopped poking at me, moving around with soft voices and clipped instructions. They acted like everything was under control.
But nothing felt controlled.
Not when the last memory I had of Tessa was her running out of the room with tears in her eyes.
Not when her face kept replaying in my head like a punishment.
The moment the door shut behind the last nurse, leaving me alone, I reached for my phone with my good hand. My fingers were still shaky from the blood loss, but I di
