Maya eased the hospital room door shut, the soft click sounding louder in the hushed corridor than she intended. The faint antiseptic tang of the ward mixed with the muted hum of conversations at the nurses' station. She adjusted the strap of her bag and pressed her phone to her ear.
Tessa's voice came through sharp and trembling. "I can't believe this, Maya. Your mom's been in the hospital all this time, and I had to find out from someone else. Do you even know what that feels like? I'm supposed to be your best friend."
Maya's fingers tightened around the phone. "I'm sorry, Tess," she whispered. "It all happened so fast. We're actually being discharged now. I was going to..."
"You always say that," Tessa interrupted, softer but still wounded. "Then I'm the last to know. I should have been there for you."
Maya stared at the floor tiles, throat aching. "I didn't mean to shut you out," she murmured. "Everything's been… overwhelming."
There was a pause and then a sigh. "I'm coming to the house," Tessa said firmly. "Don't try to talk me out of it. I'll meet you there."
"You really don't have to," Maya said quietly, though a part of her longed for Tessa's presence. "It's a long drive."
"I'm coming," Tessa repeated, her tone brooking no argument.
Maya was about to reply when a familiar male voice cut through the corridor. "I'll get this down to the car."
She turned her head just in time to see Logan moving past, a duffel bag and her mother's blanket balanced easily in his arms. He didn't slow, just gave her a brief glance before heading toward the elevator.
Tessa's sharp intake of breath was audible even through the phone. "Who was that?"
"Logan," Maya said, still watching his retreating back.
"Logan?!" Tessa's voice shot up, disbelief threading through every syllable. "Logan Cross? What is he even doing there?"
"He's just helping," Maya said quickly, turning away from the main aisle, her pulse quickening.
"Helping? Maya, your mom was in the hospital and now Logan's there too?" Tessa's tone was incredulous, then turned sly. "And Damien isn't there as well, is he? You always seem to end up around those Cross brothers."
Maya let out a small, shaky laugh. "It's not like that, Tess."
"Uh-huh." Tessa's voice softened but stayed teasing. "We'll talk when I get to the house. I'm still coming."
Maya ended the call with a soft tap and slipped the phone into her bag, her breath catching. The corridor stretched out before her, bright with morning light filtering through narrow windows.
Down by the billing counter her father, Mr. Rivers, was finishing the discharge papers. Next to him stood Damien, hands tucked into his pockets, his posture respectful but unyielding. Mr. Rivers glanced up at him once, then again, as if weighing something in his mind.
"You've been here a lot," Mr. Rivers said in a voice pitched low for privacy. "Helping Maya, helping Ethan. I've noticed."
Damien inclined his head slightly. "I didn't want them to go through this alone, sir."
"That's considerate." Mr. Rivers set the pen down and leaned one elbow on the counter. "I'm not picky about who my daughter spends time with. She's grown. But she's had a rough run. Don't hurt her."
Damien met his gaze squarely. "I won't, sir," he said, voice steady. "I'm here for her. I'll stand by her. I won't leave her to handle things on her own."
Mr. Rivers held the younger man's eyes for a long moment, searching for even a flicker of insincerity. He found none. "Respect goes a long way," he said finally. "Maya takes on more than she should sometimes."
"I know," Damien replied quietly. "I'm not here to add to her burdens. I'm here to help carry them."
Something softened, just slightly, in Mr. Rivers's expression. "Then you'll understand why I'm cautious."
"I do," Damien said simply.
Across the corridor Maya shifted, oblivious to their words but acutely aware of the way the two men stood: her father steady and measuring, Damien respectful but unwavering. A flutter rose in her chest, sharp and unexpected. Ethan's voice called her name from farther down the hall, but she couldn't bring herself to look away just yet.
Mr. Rivers straightened, gathering the papers. Damien dipped his head in a small nod. Neither of them noticed Maya's eyes lingering on them, or the way her breath caught before she turned toward the elevator, that strange, unspoken weight still hanging in the bright corridor as the scene faded into the quiet hum of hospital life.
The drive back to the house was quiet except for the low hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of bags shifting in the trunk. Maya sat in the backseat beside her mother, fingers loosely interlaced, staring out the window as familiar streets rolled past. Damien drove at an unhurried pace, his hands steady on the wheel. Ethan sat up front, eyes forward, jaw set in that way he had when his thoughts were a storm.
When they finally pulled into the driveway, the house stood waiting in its usual calm, but after the hospital's constant noise the silence felt different -- softer, like a pause before something new. Mr. Rivers was already unlocking the front door, calling over his shoulder for Damien to leave the heavier bags for him. Maya stepped out slowly, helping her mother out of the car. The air smelled of rain from an earlier shower; the sky was a pale, dim gold.
Inside, everything was almost exactly as they'd left it: the muted living room, a few stacked envelopes on the console table, the faint scent of lemon polish. Ethan dropped his keys onto the counter and moved to open curtains while Maya guided her mother to the couch. Damien carried the last bag through the hall without a sound, setting it neatly beside the armchair before stepping back.
"Home again," Mr. Rivers said quietly, glancing around the room.
Maya looked at her mother's pale face, then at Damien's careful movements as he arranged a throw blanket over the couch arm. She opened her mouth, about to say something, when the sharp sound of a car horn cut through the stillness. Not loud, but pointed enough to draw every eye to the front windows.
"That'll be Tessa," Maya said under her breath, her voice giving the name shape and certainty before anyone could move. Her heart gave a tiny leap -- part relief, part dread at what questions might come spilling out of her friend.
Before anyone else reacted, Ethan was already halfway to the door, the quickness of his stride betraying how he'd been waiting for something to break the hush. He pulled the door open in one fluid motion.
And then he froze.
From Ethan's vantage point, the doorway filled with Tessa -- her hair caught in the afternoon light, strands lifting in the breeze, her eyes bright with a mixture of worry and determination. The trip must have been long; there was a faint flush on her cheeks, a travel bag slung over one shoulder. She looked nothing like a mere visitor at a threshold. To Ethan she looked, for a suspended heartbeat, like someone arriving to change the shape of the whole room. His fingers tightened on the edge of the door without meaning to, the world narrowing to the single image of her standing there, her gaze flicking past him to the interior of the house but landing on his face first.
The moment stretched, thick and unspoken, Ethan's pulse catching in his throat as he took her in. The smell of rain drifted in from behind her, and somewhere in the house Maya's voice called faintly, "Is it Tessa?"
But Ethan didn't answer right away. He was still looking at Tessa as though she were something he'd been waiting to see without knowing it, the sound of his own heartbeat filling his ears as the threshold between outside and in held them both in place.