He let out a long breath, relief washing over him. He carefully wrapped my arm, his fingers gentle. “Rest now. I’ll stay. Watch over you.”
For a moment, with his hands on me, I almost believed it was the old days. Back when he never left.
Then the ringtone split the silence.
“Fredrinn…” My twin’s voice, dripping with fake sobs. “I miss you. I’m scared… I can’t find you…”
His face twisted, guilt sharp. “I’ll come right away.”
He hung up and looked at me, torn. “She’s alone in the hospital. She’s afraid. I’ll come back after she sleeps. I swear.”
And just like that, he left. Taking the last warmth from the room with him.
I curled up on the bed, hugging my knees. My breathing was uneven. My chest wasn’t the only thing that hurt. My heart was shattered.
He didn’t come home for two days. At first, I kept checking the clock, hoping I’d hear his footsteps. Then I stopped caring. I swallowed my meds on time, changed the dressing on my arm, and tried to heal quietly in my little corner.
That afternoon, I sat by the window with a book. The sun was warm, but my eyes hurt too much to hold it. My phone buzzed. I picked it up, and her voice poured through.