Page 138 of My Sweetest Obsession

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I gave a nod. “It hurts,” I croaked.

She nodded in understanding. “I recommend using an ice pack on the area for ten to twenty minutes at a time. It’s safe to take anti-inflammatory medications such as Ibuprofen. If your symptoms worsen, come back to the ER immediately,” she said sternly.

Once the doctor left, Nico punched the cabinet and put a hole in it.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He continued to punch it.

“Nico, stop,” I tried to say, but it hurt to speak.

He planted his hands on the sink, gripping it tight. When he glanced over his shoulder, his eyes landed on my neck and face. I could only imagine what I looked like.

Pushing himself away from the sink, he walked over to me and gently cupped my face in his hands. His thumbs grazed my cheeks in a slow, deliberate movement. Bending down, he gently lowered his forehead until it rested against mine. I could smell the whiskey on his breath.

“I’m sorry. So fucking sorry,” he said over and over again.

I wrapped my hands around his neck and held him close until we kissed passionately. Then I pulled away and hugged him, and he buried his head in my neck.

There was a knock at the door. “Yeah,” Nico said in a gruff tone.

I looked up to see my father in the doorway.

“Liam’s alive and in surgery.”

NICO

We sat outside the surgery room, Gigi asleep and nestled against me. After the shit that went down today, I wasn’t about to let her out of my sight.

Liam had been in surgery for over two hours, leaving us on edge and exhausted. I’d tried to coax Gigi into eating something, but she stubbornly refused, clearly too worried about her best friend. Meanwhile, Dante paced the room like a caged lion.

Alphonse sat beside us, holding one of Gigi’s tiny hands in his. Time crawled until the hospital doors swung open and the doctor stepped out.

“Liam is going to be just fine,” the doctor assured us.

“Thank fuck,” Dante exhaled, his shoulders visibly loosening. “Can I see him?”

“The nurse will come and get you shortly,” the doctor replied, clasping Dante’s shoulder before disappearing inside the surgery room.

“I have to give Malik an update,” Dante remarked, pulling his phone from his pocket.

Gigi stirred in my lap, her eyes flickering open. “Hey, baby,” I whispered, kissing the tip of her nose.

She responded with a sleepy smile that melted my heart.

“Liam’s out of surgery, and he’s going to be okay,” I told her, watching the relief wash over her face.

She slipped off my lap and approached Dante, throwing her arms around him. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured.

“For what?” He pulled back, his brows knitted.

“He’s hurt because of me. If he never?—”

“Stop it,” he interrupted softly. “This isn’t your fault.”

“He saved my life,” she cried, and in a heartbeat, he enveloped her in another fierce hug.

A nurse stepped out of the surgery room and approached us. “Are you Liam’s family?” she asked.

“Yes, I’m his father,” Dante answered.