The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 515

She walked slowly down the corridor, her gaze drifting to the digital clock overhead. Two in the morning.

It was still so long until dawn.

The hallway was dead silent. A couple of lights around the nurses' station had been turned off to soften the glare, leaving wide gaps between the illuminated spots and casting her shadow long across the floor.

Wearing soft-soled slippers and walking at a sluggish pace, her footsteps were entirely soundless.

Franco was smoking by a window near the corridor's corner. The moment a slender shadow stretched across the baseboard, his hand paused midway through flicking his ash. He lifted his gaze toward the source of the shadow.

Their eyes met.

The only thing faster than Petty's gaze was the speed at which Franco stubbed out his cigarette.

After crushing it out, he threw the half-open window as wide as it would go.

The smoke instantly dissipated into the night breeze.

Only then did Petty notice that Franco's eyes were slightly bloodshot.

At two in the morning, his reason for standing here smoking was the exact same reason she was awake.

She and Franco might no longer be a couple, but they still shared a child.

"Why aren't you asleep?"

Franco's voice cut through the heavy silence of the corridor.

The smoke had left his tone thick and raspy.

Their shadows overlapped on the floor. Petty stared at him silently for a few seconds before answering, "I can't sleep."

Once the smoke had completely cleared, Franco took in her thin hospital gown and immediately shut the window. Although winter in Cabinda had passed, the midnight breeze still carried a harsh chill.

"Do you want to take a walk downstairs?" he offered.

Petty didn't respond. He simply turned toward the shadows near the stairwell and ordered, "Get the coats."

"Yes, sir."

A tall, broad-shouldered figure emerged from the darkness and disappeared around the corner. A moment later, Jay returned holding two jackets—one for Franco, and the other for Petty.

Even though she looked perfectly composed and far from losing control.

But he knew she was bottling it up. And the harder she suppressed it, the more devastating the fallout would be when she finally broke.

He had checked his phone's battery just moments ago. It was exactly at the level he needed it to be.

Jay had come down from upstairs and trailed them at a discreet distance. It wasn't long before he saw Franco and Petty sitting side-by-side on a garden bench, the soft glow of a phone screen illuminating Franco's hand.

It was a video of Abacus babbling his first words.

As Petty watched, her hand drifted up unconsciously, her fingertips tracing Abacus's face on the screen. In the video, the little boy was clutching one of Franco's dress shirts—left with him as a makeshift security blanket—and babbling away in baby talk she couldn't comprehend.

Yet she dragged the progress bar back to the start, watching it over and over again without ever getting tired of it.

It wasn't until she finished watching it for the fifth time that Franco's phone flashed a low-battery warning.

Petty turned to look at him, a tempest of unspoken emotions swirling in her eyes.

He met her gaze with quiet patience. "The battery's about to die. Get some proper sleep tonight, and I'll show you the rest of them in the morning. Okay?"