Footsteps echoed faintly down the corridor—his men had already gone to fetch the doctor.
But before they arrived, Matteo did something he hadn't done in days.
He wiped his tears away.
Not all of them. Just enough so Felix wouldn't see the grief buried behind them.
Felix blinked again, slowly. His gaze roamed Matteo's face with a kind of curious calm. "Why are you crying?"
Matteo let out a soft breath, barely a laugh.
"I'm not," he whispered, voice warm but trembling at the edges. "I'm just… happy."
Felix's brow knitted ever so slightly. "Are you my… doctor?"
Matteo paused, and for a second he couldn't trust his voice to answer.
Then he smiled, small and broken, like he'd rehearsed this very moment in dreams that always ended too soon.
"No," he said gently, shaking his head. "I'm not your doctor."
Felix's lips parted like he had more questions, but only one made it out.
"Then why are you here?"
Matteo drew in a slow breath, one that seemed to steady him from the inside.
