Chapter 94

Half an hour later, in the hospital room, the soft, steady sound of a fruit knife slicing through an apple rang unusually clear in the stillness of the late night. Zachary sat by the bed, his knuckles braced against the back of the blade. A continuous strip of red peel fell neatly downward and dropped into the trash can. Juliet turned her head to look at him. Zachary kept his head down, his movements methodical and unhurried, each cut perfectly measured in depth, as if he were crafting a work of art. The scene felt faintly absurd. For the past 15 years, it had always been her holding the knife, carefully peeling and cutting fruit into bite-sized pieces to offer to Ashton. If the peel broke, he would even casually tease her for being clumsy. "Open up." A neatly cut piece of apple was held to her lips. Juliet instinctively turned her head, raising her hand to take it. "I can do it myself." But before she could even lift her hand, it was gently pressed back down. Zachary did not h