Even though Jeremiah had woken up, Dr. Musazi kept him in the hospital for the next three days. She wanted him close so she could monitor his progress and administer oxygen. She said his lungs just needed a little extra support before he was good to go.

King stayed for the next day before he and Sienna headed back home. He needed to get back to work, and Sienna wanted to stay with him just in case. Luckily, before he left, he and Jeremiah had a chance to talk in private and sort things out.

The moment we were alone, Jeremiah tried to pick up where we left off, but I shut him down immediately. I didn't want to table the conversation any more than he did, but this all happened at the worst time. The hospital was not the place for this, no matter how private his suite was. And doing this right after he got shot was not the time.

"The car's out front when you're ready," I said as I stepped into the room.

"I gotta sign this last thing, then I'm good," Jeremiah said as he looked up from his discharge papers.

I grabbed my overnight bag. "You ready to get outta here?"

"I've been ready," he said as he shook his head. "It's eerie in here."

"Eerie?" I asked as I raised my eyebrows.

He smacked his teeth. "I was knocked out in this room for days, Ki. And when I was up, I could always hear my heartbeat. That's eerie."

Jeremiah downcast his eyes, his hands balled into fists on top of the clipboard. I only looked at him for a second before I realized that I'd do best to tread lightly right now. This is the first time since he'd woken up that he acknowledged that he'd even been out in the first place.

"My bad," I said, sensing his irritation. "I just wanted to know what you meant, that's all."

Jeremiah nodded before making his way to the desk with his discharge papers. My attention followed him as he passed by the window and out of sight. I considered for a moment before I made a few calls to switch hotels. If the idea of his heart being monitored creeped him out, I didn't want to see what happened if we pulled up to where he got shot.

I joined Jeremiah at the desk a few minutes later. His arm snaked around my waist as he listened to Dr. Musazi give him a very detailed rundown of his aftercare. She wanted him to take his medication as prescribed and come back in a week for a check-up. And absolutely no flying, so we were stuck in Baltimore for at least one more week.

We got to the car and headed on our way to the hotel. Jeremiah was quiet as he looked out the window, and his thumbs chased each other in a circle. He looked distracted as his teeth chewed his bottom lip.

"Are you okay?" I asked, slicing through the silence.

His fingers stopped fidgeting as his head turned towards me, his eyes still focused on the buildings passing by. His hand swiped his eyebrow as he said, "I'm good."

I sighed. "I know your tell by now, Jeremiah. You don't have to tell me what's up, but haven't you learned you don't have to lie to me?"

"Trust, I've learned that," Jeremiah said with an easy laugh, his eyes finding mine.

"So, are you okay?" I pressed once more.

"I was shot, Ki. I've got the bullet wounds and bandages to show for it and a giant gash on my side from a tube that drained blood and air from my chest," he said as his expression fell serious.

I watched as Jeremiah shook his head and shut his eyes. I could see the wheels turning in his head as he gently shook his head back and forth. I imagined all the events from the past few days settled in and really hit him for the first time.

Jeremiah's hand hovered over his shoulder. "Dr. Musazi told me they left this bullet in because it wasn't causing any problems and wasn't a priority when I was admitted. Imagine a bullet not being a priority because it wasn't the one that was killing you."

I watched Jeremiah as he continued to recite what Dr. Musazi had told him about his condition. He was clear and concise as he spoke. Any trace of worry was gone as he recounted new things she had told him and not us. His eyes looked into mine, yet they somehow managed to look past me all at once.

Jeremiah had this same detachment to him that his dad did. You would never guess he spoke about something as heavy as getting shot if you watched from far away. Only now seeing this same coldness on Jeremiah did I recognize it as a defense mechanism.

I noticed an unusual distance between Jeremiah and me and scooted closer. He didn't seem to notice, his eyes still looking past me. I grabbed his hand, and he stopped short as his attention dragged to our interlaced fingers. Life returned back to his eyes as he looked at me.

"Nah, I'm not okay." Jeremiah's breath hitched as he admitted it out loud for the first time.

I inhaled sharply as a hollowness settled over my chest. There was something about the way his features pinched together and how his eyes seemed glossier than usual that struck me. Of all the times I'd seen Jeremiah with his defenses down, he mainly stayed composed and would always be in control. His words would always be sure, even if his tone betrayed him. As I looked at him now, I saw something else ruling him.

"Okay," I said as I took a deep breath. "Can I do anything that'll help?"

Jeremiah's hand squeezed mine as he said, "I can't go back to that hotel, Kiara."

"That's already taken care of," I said. "I figured going back to where it all went down would be a lot."

"Of course, you thought of everything," he said as a soft smile crept onto his face.

"That should not still surprise you," I said as amusement sparkled in my eyes. "Anything else I can do to help?"

"It's not all that surprising," he said, a playful lilt to his voice. "And be patient with me? That's all I ask."

I nodded and said, "Okay."

Silence settled between us, and it actually felt peaceful. Fear didn't hang over us, wondering if Jeremiah would wake up, and we weren't holding our breath, hoping his lungs passed some test.

"The ball's in your court," Jeremiah said a few minutes later. "I'm on your time whenever you want to have that conversation, but don't wait 'til I'm all good."

I considered him for a moment, my teeth grasping my bottom lip. That was precisely what I planned to do, and Jeremiah knew it. His getting shot should not get swept up in the whirlwind of the past couple of days. I didn't want to focus on me and our relationship when his recovery should be the focus.

"Ki, me getting shot right now is real inconvenient timing, and for the next couple weeks, it's gonna stay like that." Jeremiah paused for a moment before he said, "The right time isn't coming anytime soon, and pretending we're all good is gonna make things worse."

"I know you're right," I said as the car rolled to a stop. The driver let us know we had arrived before I continued. "But I know doing this the night you get out of the hospital is nowhere near the right time."

When Jeremiah woke me up with a nightmare that same night, I knew I had made the right choice tabling that conversation for now. It's like he couldn't find a moment's peace awake or asleep, and I didn't want to add any more weight onto his shoulders. I was willing to put my feelings aside for the sake of Jeremiah's wellbeing. We ended in such an uncertain and tense place, but whatever worries I felt came second to Jeremiah.

The nightmares continued for the next few days. First, Jeremiah would suddenly jerk in his sleep, which was usually what woke me up. Then, his breathing would become rapid and shallow, which terrified me; It was like his lungs couldn't get enough air. It took everything in me not to shake him awake or call an ambulance just to make sure his lung hadn't collapsed again.

I called Sienna late one night. Before she and King left, she told me that he could barely sleep, and she would be up all night right there with him. She was the only person I could talk to about the situation because she was the only one who could understand. King and Jeremiah were very similar in how they were doing, which was not very well. We both had to step into the unfamiliar role of caretaker. Feeling equally as clueless as someone was an incredible comfort right now.

Jeremiah began to twitch in his sleep and I said a quick goodbye to Sienna. I watched as his expression turned pained and his breathing picked up. I placed two gentle hands on his shoulders as he flailed around, and his movement stilled. I laced my fingers with his as my free hand traced the lines in his face; I noticed that it sometimes helped soothe him.

Jeremiah's eyes flew open as he sat up, his eyes searching the room frantically for any danger. I placed my hands at the nape of his neck and called out softly, his wild eyes finding mine. It took a moment before he let out a deep breath and I felt his body relax.

"You're okay," I said as Jeremiah pressed his forehead to mine. "I got you."

In our late-night conversation, Sienna kept emphasizing how important it was to just be there. She had gone out of her mind trying to figure out what the right thing to do was to keep King calm and what the right thing to say was to keep the anxieties in his mind quiet. But, she figured out that the best thing to do was to show up.

"I know," Jeremiah said, his forehead nodding against mine. He pressed a soft kiss to my lips before he asked, "Why are you up?"

"I was making sure you were good," I breezily said. "Sometimes, when you can't breathe in your sleep, you start coughing, so I'll put a pillow over your chest. And sometimes you just look like you're in so much pain, so I...I just wanna let you know I got you."

"This been happening the past couple nights?" He framed it as a question, but he sounded so sure when he said it.

"Yeah," I said as I nodded. "You don't wake up, though," I continued as I gestured towards him.

Jeremiah took a breath before he said, "I woke up when I was still in the hospital, though."

"You had nightmares in the hospital?"

I had spent nearly every minute, waking and asleep, at Jeremiah's bedside after he woke up from his coma. I ate, slept, and bled hospital food for three days and left to shower only once so I could be there for him, yet I had missed him having nightmares.

Jeremiah nodded as he swallowed and looked towards the crack in the curtains. The sun just started to peek out over the horizon, the room still cast in shadows. Even in the darkness, I could see the unreadable expression on Jeremiah's face.

"Why didn't you say anything?" I asked once I knew he wouldn't respond with his words.

"I figured once they discharged me, I'd be all good. I wasn't tryna worry anyone with some stupid dreams." Jeremiah scoffed at himself and shook his head. "You don't have to stay up 'til the sun rises, Ki. I'm good, and I—"

"I'll stay up 'til the sun rises and sets if you're still having nightmares, Jeremiah," I said with a matter-of-fact tone.

He licked his lips and shook his head. "You don't have to do all that. I've got it—"

"Baby, you got shot. It doesn't matter if you're having nightmares or not—I'm gonna worry about you." I grabbed Jeremiah's face in my hands and made him look at me. "I'm not gonna sit here and let you deal with this alone."

For the past week or so, I'd noticed it was a battle to get Jeremiah to admit even the most minor things when it came to how he was feeling. I didn't know if it was because that's how he was raised up, although I wouldn't be surprised if that was it. It could have been because being vulnerable means he'd have to acknowledge the trauma the situation put him through, or it could've been because of what was going on between us...

Jeremiah's eyes searched my face, a subtle consideration passing over his features. The ghost of a frown tugged my lips as I placed my hands in my lap. He squinted at me, and I bit my lip as he looked over me. Certainty returned to his face, and as it did, I wished I knew what he was thinking.

"I love you," Jeremiah said before he placed a light kiss on my lips.

"I love you, too," I said as I scrunched my eyebrows and confusion laced my voice. "Baby—"

I was cut off as Jeremiah abruptly got out of bed and exited the room. I looked after him with concern before I took a deep breath and shook my head. All I needed to do was be there for him and be patient, and that's what I planned to do, no matter how difficult it was right now.

Jeremiah's mood continued to fluctuate over the past few days. It's like one day, he'd want me all up under him and with him as he made his every move, while the next, he'd keep me at arm's length and barely say two words to me.

I knew this was difficult for Jeremiah, but it was hard for me, too. I didn't know how to handle him when he was closed off because he'd never been that way with me. I didn't know how to show up for him when he would escape from a room when I tried to talk to him, or when he would detach from himself and, no matter what I did, I couldn't get him to come back.

Even on the days when Jeremiah wanted me attached to his hip, I didn't know how to help him. He still had a type of detachment about him, but it wasn't cold. I could tell the shooting changed him, and it scared him because he didn't know it what way—it was like he was putting on a character until he figured it out.

Jeremiah's one-week check-up rolled around, meaning we'd been in Baltimore for nearly two weeks. Jeremiah was eager to get this visit with Dr. Musazi over with because, at the end of all his tests, we get to find out if he'd be good to fly. And, with being good to fly comes us hopefully going home. Baltimore spelled disaster for Jeremiah and me, and we were both ready to get out of here.

"Everything looks good, Jeremiah," Dr. Musazi said with a warm smile. "I want you to take the antibiotics I prescribed until they're gone and do bi-weekly check-ups when you go home, but you are good to go home."

"So he can fly?" I asked with a hopeful expression.

"Yes, he can fly."

I breathed a sigh of relief before I asked, "Is there anything I should watch for? You said his lung isn't gonna collapse again, but just in case?"

"It's not unusual for post-pneumothorax patients to experience tightness in the chest or shortness of breath the first couple times flying. But, if that's something you're worried about, you can look into getting an air ambulance."

"Nah," Jeremiah said before I could respond. "I'm tryna get out of this damn city as fast as possible, and that's gonna take too long."

The conversation ended with that and Jeremiah's hasty exit. I grabbed Jeremiah's antibiotics with an apologetic smile before I rushed out of the room after him. Now I really understood why Sienna was right on King's heels whenever he would storm out of the room last week.

"Here's your meds," I said once I caught up with Jeremiah. "Are you—"

"I don't need you to ask me if I'm alright, Ki," he snapped. "You only ever wanna talk about if I'm good or not." He crossed his arms loosely over his chest.

"How many times do I have to tell you that you're my priority right now?" There was determination behind my voice as my expression turned stern. "You are not yourself, and I know you know that. Most of the time you're distant, and when you're not, it's like I'm watching you just go through the motions."

I placed a hand over his forearm, his arms still tucked against his chest. He looked down at my touch but said nothing. There was just that same blank stare on his face, with that same inquisitive glint in his eye he had whenever I tried to offer comfort.

"And I can't even tell what you're thinking anymore, so I don't know how to help," I said once he failed to answer. My eyes closed as I shook my head and said, "You say everything the same unless you're irritated. And you always look like you'd rather be anywhere else than with me."

Jeremiah uncrossed his arms, my hand sliding off his arm. "Kiara—"

"I know you asked me to be patient, and I want to be, but it's tough when you ice me out."

That mildly scrutinizing look he'd donned for the past couple days when he looked at me came onto his face. I'd kind of grown used to him thinking long and hard before he responded to nearly everything I'd say, which made me uneasy. What did he think but never decide to say?

"Kiara, I don't know how to react to you right now," Jeremiah said.

"Um, okay," I said as I bit my lip. "What does that mean, exactly?"

Jeremiah licked his lips and considered his next words. "You told me that you were done with me and walked out the door. Next thing I know, I'm in the hospital, and you're acting like the devoted girlfriend like the last week didn't happen."

I winced as Jeremiah recalled what I said to him. That had bothered me for a moment, but I didn't stop to consider how my words affected him. I was too worried about how I felt when everything was fresh and too wrapped up in Jeremiah's physical and mental health concerning the shooting. I tossed aside what I said without a second thought while Jeremiah sat with that. That explained his frosty behavior towards me.

"I know you. You'll hold me down for now, but I don't know if you're gonna be there after I'm all good." Jeremiah paused as his eyes found mine. "And I don't know how hard I should lean on you because of that. I want to, but I don't wanna get too comfortable if you're gonna dip out in the next couple months."

The longer Jeremiah spoke, the more my heart broke. He thought I was here out of duty and not because I wanted to be, and I never wanted him to believe that. I wish I had gotten to call him before the shooting went down, so he didn't have to sit with this for so long.

"Lean on me until we both fall, 'cause I'm not going anywhere." I threaded my fingers with his. "I regret saying I was done with you, and I should have never said it. It came from a place of hurt, and I'm sorry it took me this long to tell you that."

"I told you not to wait," he said, a hint of amusement in his tone.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm serious. I'm here, so please, don't carry this by yourself."

Jeremiah's fingers squeezed mine as he nodded firmly. He led us over to some chairs and sat us down, and I could only imagine where this conversation was going. It's been a long time overdue due to some extenuating circumstances, and I didn't think we'd be hashing this out in a hospital, but it was definitely time.

"While we're apologizing, I want to say I really am sorry that I lied to you. I was selfish with you, you were right, and it wasn't fair or right of me to keep something so important from you. I would have missed out on knowing you, but I should've just ate that shit and told you."

I nodded and shortly said, "You should have."

Regardless of how far removed from the situation we were now, I couldn't help but let bitterness sink in a little. The traces of hurt left behind no longer manifested as anger and instead turned into slight resentment. I'm just glad Jeremiah was done trying to explain his lies into reason.

"First, I accept your apology." I took a moment, my eyes falling to our still intertwined hands. I chewed my bottom lip before I took a deep breath. "But I still feel like there's a whole side of you I don't know because, well, you were hiding it from me. And how can I trust you're keeping it a stack with me when it was so easy for you to lie to me in the first place?"

"I probably couldn't lie to you again even if I tried," he said, which earned a chuckle from me. "And I