The smell hit her before anything else — that distinct mix of antiseptic and clean linen that could only mean one thing. She turned her head.Damien was sitting beside the bed, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, still in the clothes she had last seen him in. He looked like he hadn’t moved in hours.The moment he saw her eyes open, he exhaled — sharp and long, like he had been holding it in.“Thank God.” He reached for her hand immediately. “I thought I had lost you, baby.”She blinked at the ceiling. “Where am I?”“Hospital.” He squeezed her hand. “You fainted this morning.”She looked at him. Then around the room again.It had started in the kitchen.She had come down that morning while Damien was still upstairs, having taken the day off. She had been standing at the counter, reaching for a glass, nothing unusual, until the room tilted.She didn’t remember hitting the floor.Rosie had found her and had stood there for barely two seconds before she turned and ran.“Sir.” She had pu
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