Aliana’s POV

I should have been relieved that he was alive. That he was breathing. That the doctor had assured me he’d make a full recovery.

The only sound that I could hear is the soft ticking of the clock on the wall and the slow, steady rise and fall of Freddy’s chest as he lay in bed, recovering. The bandages wrapped tightly around his torso were stark against his skin, a reminder of the bullet he had taken—for me.

But instead, I felt trapped. Because now, I had a decision to make. And I didn’t know if I was strong enough to make it.

I stood by the bedroom...