After months of chemotherapy, sleepless nights, and careful watch, Clara's father was finally in remission.
Clara sat beside her father's hospital bed, watching as he laughed softly at a joke Liam had just made, his shoulders no longer thin and slumped, his cheeks flushed with new color. The steady rhythm of the heart monitor no longer filled her with dread, it was a quiet reassurance now, a reminder of how far they had come.
"You look better than me now," Clara teased, reaching for the fruit on the tray and peeling an orange with easy familiarity.
Her father chuckled, the sound stronger than it had been in months. "And you look a little less tired. Liam's been taking good care of you?"
She smiled, eyes flicking toward Liam who stood by the window, scrolling through messages but clearly listening. "He has. He's been here through everything."
What she didn't know was how hard it had been juggling her final year of college and staying by her father's side every night. Between hospital shifts, classes, and endless study sessions, Clara had stretched herself thin. But she had never once thought of giving up. Her father was her world.
And they hadn't been alone.
Liam's parents had visited often too, bringing warm meals and kind encouragement, sitting by Mr. Harper's side as if he were family. His mother would hold his hand and say, "You're going to walk her down that aisle one day. So get better, okay?" And his father, with his usual calm authority, would add, "You've got a wedding to witness—after they graduate."
Mr. Harper's gaze lingered on his daughter, a quiet pride shining in his tired eyes. "I didn't think I'd get to see you like this again. Strong. Happy."
Liam looked up, sliding his phone into his pocket as he stepped closer to the bed. "She's the strong one, sir," he said with a soft smile. "I just make sure she remembers to eat and sleep."
He turned to Clara, his voice gentler now. "But I'll keep taking care of her for as long as she'll let me."
Mr. Harper's smile deepened, his hand reaching out to rest over Clara's. "Then I know she's in good hands."
*****
That night, Clara stepped into the bedroom where Liam was already waiting, seated on the bed with a blanket tossed over his lap. He looked up when he saw her, his expression gentle, warm, already knowing.
She crossed the room slowly and sat beside him, curling into his side without a word. His arm slipped around her shoulders automatically, pulling her close.
"I'm so glad," she whispered eventually, her voice trembling just a little. "That I got to protect him this time… That I could actually save him."
Liam turned his head to look at her, his eyes soft with something deeper than admiration. "You did more than save him, Clara. You gave him back time."
Her eyes welled up, and she pressed her forehead to his shoulder. "In the other life… I couldn't. I watched him fade, and I didn't know how to stop it. But this time… this time I changed something."
Liam pulled her gently into his lap, cradling her against his chest. "You changed everything," he murmured. "For him. For you. For me."
Clara looked up at him, her heart aching with the mix of relief and love. "Thank you… for being by my side all these while."
He cupped her cheek, brushing away the single tear that had slipped free. "There's nowhere else I'd ever be."
Their foreheads met in the quiet space between words. Liam leaned in, and when his lips touched hers.