The Unwavering Heart That Broke novel Chapter 22

The scent was so familiar it wrapped around her like a memory, and in an instant she knew exactly who was beside her.

She bolted upright and flicked on the lamp. Lance was sprawled facedown on her bed, bundled up in the blanket. His face was flushed a strange, sickly red, his eyes half-open, unfocused, lost somewhere far from here.

“If you’re going to drop dead, do it somewhere else,” Nathalie snapped. Just the sight of him pissed her off. He kept lying to her, always twisting things, and now he was here—scaring her in the middle of the night.

But Lance didn’t say a word. His breathing came out rough and heavy.

A bad feeling twisted in her stomach. She remembered that burning heat when his arm brushed against her.

She bit her lip and reached over, pressing her palm to his forehead.

Boiling hot.

Leaning closer, she caught a metallic smell—blood.

Her brows tightened, sharp and beautiful, as she yanked the blanket off him.

Her eyes went wide. Bandages wound around his body, but blood had already seeped through, especially on his back.

It was everywhere, soaking almost all of it.

Her heart clenched hard, panic rising inside her. She grabbed her phone and, hands shaking, called the family doctor.

The doctor arrived in no time, checking Lance over, cleaning the wounds and changing the dressings, hooking him up to an IV beside the bed.

Nathalie hovered at his side, silent, watching every step. When the doctor pulled away the old gauze, she saw the mess of bloody, crisscross scars running over his back.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe... just staring at him made her chest tight.

The doctor was sweating by the end. He handed her some medicine and gave her careful instructions. “These are for when he wakes up. I've marked everything, just follow the order. Change the drip as I set it. The wounds can’t get wet, and he needs to eat light, nothing spicy or greasy.”

Force him to let her go. Force him to face what he really felt.

She could see it so clearly. His heart wasn’t with her anymore.

He just refused to admit it.

So, fine. She’d help him.

Bagot let out a long sigh. “Nathalie, you and Lance have been together eight years. I've seen what you two survived to get here. He’d never fall for Felice. Everything he’s done is for Jasper. Can’t you give him another chance?”

“No.”

She hung up before he could say another word.

Outside, the moonlight spilled quietly through the window, but the bedroom was heavy, full of unsaid things. Nathalie stared at the man passed out from fever, then grabbed a pillow and walked over to him.