Page 75 of Icebound Hearts

“Stay with me.”

My heart stumbles over itself. How can I say no?

Aiden is the worst patient. I should’ve expected it. The guy doesn’t know how to sit still for more than five minutes, andnow, being forced to recover after donating his stem cells, he’s practically climbing the walls.

“Kat, I swear to God, if you try to make me drink another smoothie, I’m going to lose my mind.” I narrow my eyes at him from across the kitchen.

“You just had surgery, Aiden. Your body needs proper nutrition.” He groans, slumping further into the couch like a petulant child.

“I need real food.” I cross my arms.

“You need to stop being a stubborn idiot and listen to me.” Aiden lifts a brow, smirking. “You like bossing me around, don’t you?” I grab a pillow from the armchair and chuck it at him.

“Shut up and drink your smoothie, Aidy.” He catches it easily, grinning.

“You’re lucky I’m too weak to fight back.” I roll my eyes but bite back a smile.

The truth is, I don’t mind taking care of him. If anything, it’s nice—making sure he’s resting, keeping him from overexerting himself, having an excuse to be close to him without overthinking it. It feels normal in a way I wasn’t expecting.

And it’s easier to focus on him than on the what-ifs that still linger in the back of my mind. But today, for the first time in weeks, we finally get some good

News. Sophia’s numbers are up.

Her body is responding to the transplant, and when Will calls to tell us, I watch Aiden’s entire body sag with relief.

“That’s—” He exhales, shaking his head like he can’t believe it. “That’s good. That’s really fucking good.”

I nod, squeezing his hand. “It’s working.”

Aiden blinks rapidly, looking away like he’s trying to keep it together. “Yeah.”

I don’t say anything else. I just slide my fingers between his,

letting him hold on as tightly as he needs.

Later that night, I wake up to the sound of his voice. It takes me a second to register what’s happening. I’m half-asleep, curled up under a blanket on the couch, when I hear him in the other room. His voice is low, tight with frustration.

“No, Dad, you don’t get to pretend you care now.” I freeze.

Dad.

Aiden’s dad. The one who barely exists in his life, the one who has never been there for Sophia, the one who walked away and stayed away.

I sit up, my stomach twisting as Aiden’s voice grows sharper. “She’s not a fucking disease,” he snaps, his voice getting louder

. “She’s your daughter, and she’s fighting for her life, and you can’t even be bothered to—”

A pause. A long one.

I hear Aiden exhale, the kind of breath that sounds like he’s trying not to break something.

“Right,” he finally says, voice quieter now. “That’s what I thought.”

Another silence, then a harsh laugh, bitter and cold.

“Yeah, well. Don’t worry. I’ve been taking care of things

without you for a long time. We don’t need you now.” And then— Aiden hangs up. I don’t know how long I sit there, my heart pounding, waiting for him to come back into the living room. When he finally does, his jaw is tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

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