Chapter 14: Fighting the Unstoppable

Sophia's POV

I woke up to the steady hum of a hospital monitor and the unmistakable presence of someone sitting too close.

It took me a second to remember.

The collapse.

The hospital.

And him.

I blinked slowly, turning my head.

Travis was still there.

Not just there—still watching me, still studying me like I was some kind of puzzle he was determined to solve.

And I hated that a small part of me felt... safer because of it.

I exhaled, dragging a hand down my face. "You really don't have anything better to do?"

He smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Nope."

I rolled my eyes, trying to shift into a sitting position, but the IV tugged at my arm, and I realized just how weak I felt.

I hated this.

Hated feeling fragile. Hated that he was seeing me like this.

Hated that I knew I wasn't strong enough to push him away right now.

I settled against the pillows, glaring at him. "You're enjoying this way too much."

Travis tilted his head slightly. "Enjoying what? Watching you nearly work yourself to death?" His voice darkened slightly. "Yeah. That was a fucking blast, Moreau."

I inhaled sharply.

Because he wasn't joking.

There was no teasing in his tone. No amusement.

Just something sharp and frustrated and... something else I didn't want to name.

I looked away, forcing my voice to stay even. "I'm fine."

Travis let out a low laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah? You collapse in your office, wind up in the hospital, and you still think you're fine?"

I clenched my jaw. "This isn't your problem, Cole."

He leaned forward suddenly, his elbows resting on his knees, his voice quieter—but somehow heavier.

"Maybe it should be."

My stomach tightened.

Because he meant it.

He actually meant it.

And I didn't know how to handle that.

I looked away again, staring at the IV drip like it held the answers to why my chest felt too tight.

"I don't need saving," I muttered.

Travis exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair. "Yeah, well, you're doing a shit job of convincing me of that."

I clenched my fists against the blanket.

He didn't get it.

No one did.

I had to do this.

Had to prove I could handle it.

Had to prove that I wasn't weak.

Had to prove that I wasn't her—that girl in the back of a car, yelling at her parents before the world ended.

I had spent years punishing myself for that night, pushing harder, faster, further—because if I stopped, if I let myself feel it—

It would destroy me.

And no one—not Leah, not Travis, not anyone—could change that.

But as much as I wanted to shove him away, as much as I wanted to make him leave—

He wasn't moving.

He wasn't leaving.

And for some reason, that scared me more than anything.

A nurse came in shortly after, checking my vitals, adjusting the IV.

Travis didn't leave.

I was too drained to argue.

Too drained to push.

So I let him stay.

And for a while, we sat in silence.

It wasn't uncomfortable.

It should have been.

But it wasn't.

And that was dangerous.

Because if I let myself get used to this—

To him being here.

To him staying—

I wasn't sure I'd be able to go back.

Hours passed.

Leah showed up at some point, hovering in the doorway with crossed arms and a look that said I told you so.

She didn't say it out loud.

But I felt it.

She and Travis exchanged glances—some silent conversation I wasn't a part of.

It irritated me.

Like they were teaming up against me.

Like I was the one who didn't understand.

Leah sighed, rubbing her temples. "They're keeping you another night."

I frowned. "No, they're not."

Travis let out a sharp laugh. "The hell they aren't."

I turned my glare on him. "I have work to do."

"You nearly passed out twice since we got here," Leah snapped, narrowing her eyes. "You cannot go back to work."

I inhaled slowly, pressing my fingers into my temples.

I didn't have time for this.

Didn't have time for them.

Didn't have time for my body to betray me like this.

"Fine," I muttered. "One night."

Leah let out an exhausted sigh, giving Travis another glance before leaving the room.

I sagged against the pillows.

Travis was still watching me.

I ignored him.

Mostly.

"Why do you do it?" he asked after a long stretch of silence.

I turned my head slightly. "Do what?"

His gaze was sharp. "Push yourself this hard. Run yourself into the fucking ground."

I pressed my lips together. "I don't expect you to understand."

"Try me."

I let out a slow breath, fingers curling into the blanket. "Because if I don't, no one else will."

He didn't speak right away.

When he did, his voice was softer. "That's bullshit."

I huffed a humorless laugh. "Is it?"

"Yeah," he said firmly. "Because I'm here. Leah's here. You're not as alone as you think you are."

I swallowed hard.

Because that was the problem.

I had spent so long being alone, building walls so high no one could reach me.

But now?

Now someone was trying.

And I wasn't sure if I was strong enough to stop him.

I slept again that night.

Not because I wanted to.

But because my body gave me no choice.

And when I woke up, Travis was still there.

Sitting in the same chair, looking like he hadn't moved.

And for the first time, I let myself wonder—

What would happen if I stopped fighting?

If I let him stay?

And that thought scared me more than anything else ever had.