I swing my legs off the bed, the cold tile shocking against my feet. My knees almost give out, but Jason catches me before I fall.
"You're not strong enough—"
"Let me go," I whisper, bracing on his shoulders. "Please."
Our eyes lock.
And for a second, I see something flicker in his—a war between fear and admiration.
"You're so stubborn," he says softly.
"Look who's talking."
He sighs but nods. "Alright. I'll take you to him. But you stay by me. One wobble and I'm carrying your ass back here myself."
I try to smirk. "Deal."
He helps me into a wheelchair; the nurse left it near the wall, adjusting the footrests and tucking the blanket around me like he's done it before. His hands linger on my arms a moment too long before he finally wheels me out of the room.
The hallway smells sterile. Bright lights hum overhead.
Each door we pass tightens the knot in my stomach. I don't know what I'll find. I don't even fully know why I'm panicking so hard—
