Henry didn't expect Emma's hands to twitch anymore. But he held it anyway.
"You'd like what's going on back home. It's chaotic. Messy. And real."
A pause.
Then he exhaled slowly.
"Logan's changing." His voice lowered, gentled. "Jean's doing that to him. She's still sharp… like barbed wire wrapped in silk but there's something... softer in her now. Something real."
His thumb brushed over her knuckles.
"He kissed her. In public. It's all over the news." A wry chuckle. "You would've already printed the photo, framed it, and dragged it into our group chat with heart emojis."
Silence.
The machines hummed gently beside her, the only heartbeat in the room.
Henry looked down, his voice quieter now.
"I wish you'd wake up and see it yourself. You'd be so proud of them."
A breath. He ran a hand through his hair.
"I miss you, Em."
He didn't cry. He just sat there. Holding her hand like it still held the warmth of spring.
Time waited.
