This was only the second time Vince had seen Vanessa cry.
And as he rode the bus home that evening, he couldn't stop replaying it—the way her crystal-blue eyes filled, the way she tried to stay strong even when she was breaking.
He didn't want to lose her.
He didn't want the last memory of them to be a hospital goodbye.
So he made up his mind.
For the next few days, Vince went to the hospital after school.
Even if it was just thirty minutes.
Even if it meant staying quiet.
Even if she told him not to wait.
Vanessa wasn't surprised.
She knew he would come. He was relentless in a way that wasn't loud—it was steady. Persistent. Like gravity. A boy who refused to drift away.
She wanted to push him back. To protect him from the hurt that was coming when she left.
But she couldn't.
Somewhere along the way, without either of them noticing, Vince had settled into her life—closer than she'd intended.
One afternoon, as Vince approached the hospital parking lot, something caught his eye.
A familiar motorcycle.
He'd seen it at school.
And at the park.
Darian.
Vince's jaw tightened.
Inside, the nurses greeted him with familiarity now. He had become a regular presence, polite, helpful—never causing trouble within these walls.
When he reached the private room, he paused.
A voice drifted through the slightly open door.
Darian.
He was asking Vanessa about her father. Calmly. Almost gently.
Nothing aggressive. Nothing inappropriate.
Just questions.
Vince pushed the door open slowly.
All eyes turned toward him.
Darian's expression darkened slightly.
"Ah. This guy's here."
"Is that a problem?" Vince replied evenly.
Darian crossed his arms.
"I'd rather you weren't."
"Funny," Vince said, stepping inside. "I feel the same way."
The tension in the room was immediate.
Vanessa looked between them, exhausted.
They weren't yelling.
But the air felt sharp.
"If you're going to argue," she said flatly, "do it outside."
They held each other's gaze for a moment longer.
Then both looked away.
Darian leaned back against the wall, arms folded.
Vince took a seat across from Vanessa.
Neither spoke.
Vince glanced at the hospital bed.
"How is he?" he asked quietly.
Vanessa didn't look up from where she was adjusting the blanket.
"Still the same."
Darian shifted against the wall.
"What happened to the old man's business?" he asked.
Vanessa's hand paused for half a second before continuing.
"How should I know?" she replied coolly. "I don't care about what he did or what he had. Whatever's left probably went to the people working under him."
"Really..." Darian murmured, like he was piecing something together in his head.
Vince's gaze sharpened.
Why did Darian care about her father's business?
From what Vince knew, her dad was a well-known loan shark. And Darian's father had worked under him before.
There were connections there.
History.
Things Vince didn't understand yet.
He wanted to ask.
But he didn't.
Vanessa had already drawn her boundaries. He wasn't going to push her past them.
Darian's eyes shifted back to her.
"You're really moving?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"Somewhere."
Darian's jaw tightened.
"You're dodging the question."
Vanessa gave a small hum in response, refusing to elaborate.
The silence between them wasn't empty—it was loaded.
Vince could feel it.
Vanessa hated Darian because of Hanna.
Vince hated Darian because of Karina—the mess, the breakdown, the way Darian always seemed to leave damage behind him.
And yet, here they were.
Standing in the same hospital room.
Both unwilling to leave.
Both unwilling to admit they were afraid of losing her.
The tension wasn't just rivalry.
It was unfinished history.