CHAPTER 24: BEFORE THE TRUTH HURTS

Chapter 24

JACE MARINO

The first sound I hear is the heart monitor.

It’s been beeping all night. Steady,unchanging. But now it feels different. Maybe because my own heartbeat has finally started to match it.

Or maybe because I’m so tired I’ve begun to hear things that aren’t there.

The light in the room is soft now. Morning light.

It falls across Julian’s face, pale gold against the band of tape holding the IV line in place. His breathing’s steadier than it was. His skin’s warmer too. He looks almost peaceful.

Almost.

I haven’t moved from this chair since last night. The nurses came in and out. Checking his vitals, changing the IV bag, whispering around me like I’m a piece of furniture they don’t want to disturb. I must look like hell. I can feel it in my bones. The ache that comes from too many hours of not sleeping, not moving, not knowing what happens next.

I don’t care. I can’t leave him.

When the door opens, I tense automatically, but it’s just Luka.

He’s holding a paper cup that smells like burnt coffee. His eyes look raw, but his voice is quiet when he says, "He moved earlier."

I’m on my feet before I can stop myself. "What do you mean?"

"When I came to check on you guys" he said

"You came in here?"

"Yes, you look like you were out of it and didn’t notice me or maybe I was too quiet when I came in"

Fuck, fuck,fuck.

What if it was someone else?.

"So..."

He shrugs, stepping closer. "Just... twitched. Like, turned his head a bit."

My heart starts pounding again. "Has he....?"

"Not yet," Luka says softly. "But he’s trying."

I nod, more to myself than to him, and sit back down beside the bed. The chair creaks under me, loud in the silence. I reach out, my hand hovering above Julian’s.

"Hey," I whisper. "It’s morning. You’ve slept enough, don’t you think?"

Luka watches for a moment, then slips out quietly, closing the door behind him.

It’s just the two of us again.

For a long while, nothing happens.

Then his fingers move. Small, almost uncertain. Like a twitch caught between dream and waking. I hold my breath. He shifts again, head turning slightly toward the sound of my voice.

"Hey," I say, my throat tight. "It’s me."

His eyelids flutter, once, twice. Then they open — slow, dazed, confused.

For a second, he just stares at the ceiling. Then his eyes move, finding me.

And I swear my heart stops.

He looks lost. Disoriented. Like he’s not sure what’s real. Then, as recognition hits, I see the confusion fade, replaced by something heavier. Something that hurts to look at.

"Hey," I whisper. "Don’t move too fast. You passed out."

He blinked at me, his voice faint and cracked. "Where... am I?"

"Hospital," I say. "You scared the hell out of everyone."

He lets out a weak, almost humorless laugh. "Everyone?"

"Rico and Luka. They’ve been here all night."

A pause.

"And me."

He closes his eyes again, like that answer costs him something. "You didn’t have to."

"I know," I say quietly. "But I needed to."

The silence stretches. The monitor beeps softly between us, the only proof that time is still moving. Julian turns his face slightly away from me, toward the window.

"I saw you," he murmurs.

His words are slurred, but I hear them clear enough.

"I know."

He swallows hard. "You’re... a Marino."

The name sounds like a bruise in his mouth.

I almost can’t stand it. "Yeah."

"For how long?" His voice is quiet, but there’s something sharp buried underneath.

"Since before I met you."

He opens his eyes again, finally looking at me. "So everything was a lie?"

"No," I say quickly. "Not everything. Never that."

He doesn’t answer, but I can see the wall go up. That quiet retreat he does when he’s hurt. I want to tell him everything. About Aiko. About Enzo. About how none of it was supposed to touch him, how I thought I could keep my world from spilling into his.

But the words stick.

"And you’re getting married."

His laugh was sharp, bitter, like it hurt coming out. "God, I must be a fool."

He finally looks at me, and it’s worse than I imagined.

"No, you’re not," I say, voice barely steady.

His tone is low, quiet. But it lands heavy, pressing against my chest like a weight I can’t lift.

"How do you even think of asking me out when you’re getting married? What am I, Jace? Your secret? What were you even thinking, keep me tucked away while you parade around with your fiancée? Keep me as your dirty secret?"

"No—no, baby, please—" My eyes sting. I can feel the panic climbing my throat. I’ve never been this scared, not even with my father.

"Don’t call me that," he cuts in, voice trembling. "And stop looking at me like that."

I’m already sitting beside his bed, so close that I can hear every uneven breath he takes. Slowly, I reach out and take his hand, expecting him to pull away. But he doesn’t. His fingers stay in mine, cold and tense, and that small mercy hurts more than anything.

"I’m not getting married," I whisper.

"Bullshit."

The word hits me like a slap. He’s never cursed before.

I freeze. My hands start shaking.

He’s still staring at me, eyes bright and wet, full of disbelief.

"Your family name is always on the news," he says, voice cracking. "What the hell do you even do, Jace? The man I know, the man I fell in love with is a fucking professor. Not this man."

"Why didn’t you tell me?" His breathing is shallow, like every inhale hurts.

"Because I didn’t want to lose you."

He looks away again.

"You already did," he whispers.

And that. That breaks something in me.

I lean forward, elbows on my knees, trying to steady my breathing

I sound stupid even in my own ear.

. "You don’t get it. I tried to protect you. I thought if you didn’t know—"

"You think ignorance is protection?" His voice is still soft, but it cuts deeper than a shout ever could. "You let me fall for you without even knowing who you were."

"I know," I say. "And I’m sorry."

The apology sounds small. Useless. Like it’s drowning in everything left unsaid.

He closes his eyes again, exhausted. "Please go."

"Baby—"

"Please," he says again, quieter this time, almost begging.

I want to argue. To stay. But he’s pale and trembling, and I can see the strain in every muscle of his face. So I stand up slowly, fingers curling into fists at my sides.

"I’ll be outside," I say. "I’m not leaving the hospital."

He doesn’t answer.

But that’s okay. For now, silence is better than nothing.

When I step out into the hall, the light feels too bright. Luka’s sitting against the wall, eyes heavy with worry. Rico’s back now too, leaning against the vending machine. Neither of them looks at me.

He’s awake! I’m calling the—"

They didn’t wait for me to finish. They just brushed past, rushing into Julian’s room before I could even move.

I sink into one of the plastic chairs and drop my head into my hands.

For the first time in my life, I don’t know what comes next.