Timothy's POV
"No, please… come here…" The words scraped my throat raw, each syllable like swallowing glass. My chest burned as I struggled for air. "Please, don't go…" Pain shot through me, but I pushed through it, desperate to make Jude stay.
Panic flashed across her face. She scooped up Harlow, who was still asleep, cradling her daughter as she rushed toward the door. Then a crash echoed behind her.
When she spun around, I was already sprawled on the floor. I'd tried dragging myself out of bed, but my body betrayed me—too damn weak to support my own weight.
Her eyes went wide. She quickly placed Harlow back on the sofa and hurried to my side.
"Are you hurt? What happened?" Her voice shook with worry. Guilt flickered in her expression, and when I reached out, she grasped my hand, ready to help me back to bed. Instead, I pulled her into my arms.
