The sterile air of the recovery ward tasted of antiseptic and unspoken fear. Neil sat by her bedside, a sentinel against the quiet, his chair pulled so close the armrests touched the rollaway bed. For nearly two days, he had watched over her, a silent guardian as she drifted in the shallows between worlds. The only nourishment she’d received was the slow, steady drip from the fluid bag hanging above her, a transparent IV feeding a life that had, by all rights, been extinguished. The persistent, rhythmic beeps and blips of the monitors were the room's only heartbeat, a metronome counting out the seconds he had almost lost.

  Her eyelids fluttered, then peeled open. He watched her pupils contract, slowly calibrating to the room's harsh fluorescence.

  “What time is it?” Her voice was a dry rasp.

  “It’s almost eleven in the morning,” he said, his own voice thick. He didn’t look away, afraid she might vanish if he did. “But you should keep resting.” He found himself clasping his free hand over the one he was already holding, his thumb tracing circles on her skin.

  She closed her eyes again, and a faint smile touched her lips. “You’ve been here the whole time. Haven’t you.” It wasn't a question. It was an acknowledgement of his vigil.

  He couldn't answer immediately. A lump rose in his throat, a painful obstruction of everything he couldn't say. He swallowed it down. “I had to make sure…that you weren’t going to…” He paused, his lips quivering. “...to leave me again.” As he spoke, a hot tear escaped and traced a path down his cheek, landing on his arm. He saw her eyes open, knew she was seeing his carefully constructed facade—the older, wiser department head—crumbling to reveal the terrified man underneath. She was more than a colleague, more than a friend. She was the center of his universe.

  “I’m sorry.” Neil pulled his hand away to wipe the tear away with the back of his hand, forcing a brittle laugh. “Look at me. How silly.”

  “No.” Judith’s voice was stronger now. She let go of his hand and reached up, her palm cool against his cheek, her thumb stroking his skin. “It’s not silly at all, Neil.” Her brown eyes, clear and preternaturally calm, studied his face. “Neil. I know things.” she whispered. “Things I shouldn’t be able to know yet.”

  His brow furrowed. “I don’t understand, Judith.”

  She shook her head slightly, a gesture of infinite patience. “I know. It’s not going to make sense to you. But I saw everything.” He saw the effort it took for her to form the words. “Everything that she saw. Everything that she did.”

  His eyes widened. “Your other…” He couldn't finish. He let the word hang in the sterile air, unsaid.

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  “Yes.” A faint, peaceful smile graced her lips. “She isn’t gone, Neil.” She moved her hand to her own chest, pressing it flat over her heart. “She’s in here.”

  The words sent a chill through him, a profound and unsettling truth. He had to know. “What did you see?”

  She winced as she swallowed, and he saw the pain it caused her. He wheeled his chair to the table behind him, grabbed a cup of water with a straw, and brought it to her lips. “Drink this,” he instructed gently. She placed her lips around the straw and drank, sighing in relief.

  “Neil, I saw us,” she said, her voice faint but clearer. “You and me.” Her glossy eyes penetrated his. “I know you love me. I remember you telling me.”

  He was lost. Had he spoken his feelings aloud in a moment of grief? “When did I—”

  “You haven’t yet,” she explained, a faint, knowing smile on her lips. “But you will.” He tilted his head, ready to protest, but she gently placed a finger across his lips, shushing him. “You were walking me home, Neil. After we finished one of our final tests.” She was lost in the memory now, painting the picture for him. “We stopped at a noodle cart. We were talking about the next one. The real jump, Neil.”

  “I was eating my favorite—spicy creamy Udon,” she continued, a soft laugh escaping her. “And I was talking, and you just stopped me. You took your finger and wiped a noodle I had stuck to the side of my face.” She laughed again, and the sound was like music in the quiet room. “Then I laughed at myself, too. And then there was just the noise of the street and the rush hour crowds all around us. And you looked at me… serious as I’ve ever seen you.”

  He could see it. He could see the street, the steam from the cart, the look on her face.

  “And then you said it,” she whispered, her eyes locked on his. “‘Doctor Judith Hawking, I have a confession.’” Her voice dropped to an intimate register. “‘I’m in love with you.’”

  Neil’s heart hammered against his ribs. “What did you say?” he asked, breathless.

  She looked at him, a sad, beautiful smile on her face. “You really don’t know, do you?”

  “Know what?”

  “Are all of you men so dense?” A single tear leaked from the corner of her eye. “How have you not known this whole time?” Her smile was everything. “I’ve always been in love with you.”

  An electric shock pulsed through him. It was a truth so profound, so overwhelming, that his mind short-circuited. He looked away, a storm of shock and joy and relief flooding him, a feeling so big it felt like it might tear him apart.

  Then he felt her gentle finger on his chin, pulling his gaze back to hers.

  “Well, don’t just sit there like a fool,” she said, her voice filled with warmth and life. “Kiss me, you idiot.”

  A grin of pure, unadulterated joy exploded across his face. He leaned in, stopping just before his lips met hers, his eyes dancing.

  He smiled, teasing her. “That’s Doctor Tyson, to you.”