The Sickened Luna's Last Chance - Chapter 51: Chapter 51

Ella
Alexander stepped into the room and held up the bag. “I brought you some things to keep you occupied.”
I straightened in the hospital bed, pulling the thin blanket higher over my torso. I hadn’t expected to see him again, especially not so soon after he’d dropped off the flowers. “Things?”
He approached the bed and handed me the bag. “Just some books, games, stuff like that. The nurses mentioned you might be here for a few days.”
Curious despite myself, I peered inside. There were a few paperback novels—mysteries, one of my favorite genres—a book of crossword puzzles, a deck of playing cards, and folded on top of everything else, a gray sweatshirt that I immediately recognized as Alexander’s.
I pulled it out and held it up, blushing furiously. “This is yours.”
Alexander shrugged. “I checked your closet for something warm, but all your sweaters are too thin. It gets cold in hospitals at night.”
I blinked, staring at the sweatshirt. It was one I’d seen him wear around the house on rare occasions, usually when he was working in his office late at night. The fabric was worn in places, soft from years of washing. It smelled faintly of him.
“Besides,” he added, “it would look good for the press if you’re seen wearing my clothes. People still think our marriage is on the rocks.”
And there it was. The real reason. Not concern for my comfort, but concern for his image. His campaign. The act we’d been putting on for weeks now.
“Right,” I muttered, shoving down the bitter disappointment that began to form in my chest. “Wouldn’t want anyone to think we’re not madly in love.”
If Alexander noticed the frustration in my words, he didn’t show it. “You should put it on,” he said. “It’s already getting colder in here.”
He wasn’t wrong about that. The hospital room was chilly, and my arms were covered in goosebumps beneath the thin hospital gown. Swallowing my pride, I pulled the sweatshirt over my head, letting the soft fabric engulf me. It was enormous on my frame, the sleeves hanging well past my fingertips, and the hem would probably hit mid-thigh if I stood.
But it was warm. And comfortable. And it smelled like him.
“Thank you for bringing this stuff,” I said. “You can go now, if you want. I’m sure you’re busy.”
“I’m staying for a while.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“People would talk if I didn’t,” he pointed out. “A devoted husband would stay with his sick wife, especially after she collapsed in public. It would look strange if I just dropped off a bag and left.”
More image maintenance. More pretending. The hospital was full of pack members who would notice—and gossip about—how long the Alpha stayed with his Luna. Of course that was his concern, not my actual well-being.
The bitterness I’d been trying to swallow rose up again. Did anything Alexander did come from a genuine place? Or was it all calculated for maximum political benefit? Was what happened in the alley just for show, too, in case someone saw?
“Well, then,” I said stiffly. “By all means, make yourself comfortable.”
Alexander nodded and sat in the chair Lilith had occupied earlier. Then, to my surprise, he reached into the bag he’d brought and pulled out a small wooden chess set.
“I thought we could play,” he said, setting up the board on the rolling table beside my bed. “It helps pass the time.”
I stared at the chessboard. In five years of marriage, Alexander and I had never once played a game together. Never spent an evening doing something as simple and normal as chess.
“I don’t really know how to play,” I admitted. “I mean, I know the basics, but I’m not very good.”
Alexander shrugged. “That’s fine. I can teach you.”
For a moment, I considered refusing just to spite him. But the thought of sitting in silence while he watched me seemed even more awkward than fumbling through a chess game.
“Alright,” I sighed. “But go a little easy on me.”
Alexander nodded and began setting up the pieces, explaining each one’s movement as he placed them on the board.
“White goes first,” he said, gesturing to my side of the board. “Your move.”
I hesitated, then moved a pawn forward two spaces. Alexander nodded approvingly and moved one of his own pawns.
The game progressed slowly, with me making cautious moves and Alexander responding with quick, strategic ones. It was clear he’d played this game many times before, while I was just guessing at the best course of action.
“Knight to E5,” I said after a few minutes, moving my piece.
Alexander’s lips twitched. “You just moved your bishop, not your knight.”
I looked down at the piece I’d just moved, then back at Alexander. “Wait, which one is the knight again?”
“The horse,” he said, pointing to the piece shaped like a horse’s head.
“Right.” I felt my cheeks heat. “I knew that.”
Alexander’s expression remained neutral, but there was a gleam in his eyes that might have been something akin to amusement. I moved my actual knight this time, only to watch Alexander immediately capture it with his bishop.
“Dammit,” I muttered. “I should have seen that coming.”
“You left it undefended,” Alexander explained. “Always look at what your opponent could do on their next move.”
I frowned at the board, trying to think three steps ahead like Alexander clearly was. But after a few more moves, Alexander had captured half my pieces while I’d only managed to take two of his pawns.
“This is embarrassing,” I said, watching as he added my rook to his growing collection of captured pieces. “I’m getting absolutely destroyed here.”
“You’re not that bad.
“If this were a real battle, my army would be considering mutiny right about now.” I gestured to the scattered pawns. “They’re plotting their escape as we speak. Probably making little parachutes out of hospital napkins.”
Suddenly, Alexander laughed, and I looked up at him in surprise. His smile transformed his face, softening the hard lines around his mouth and making him look years younger. Handsome. Kind. He tossed his head back and laughed loudly and deeply, teeth shining beneath the fluorescent lights, red hair falling into his closed eyes. I didn’t know how to react to the sight.
It hit me, then, that I’d never seen him smile like this before. Not in five years of marriage. Not even during our recent public appearances where we’d been pretending to be in love.
This smile was real. This laugh was real. And it did strange things to my insides.
I blushed, looking away, and cleared my throat. “Um… Castle to C6.”
By the time we finished the game, it was well past ten o’clock. The hospital corridor outside had grown quiet.
“I should go,” Alexander said, glancing at his watch. “It’s late, and I’ve got work to do tomorrow.”
And just like that, the illusion shattered. Alexander wasn’t going to spend the night with me like a normal husband would. Because he wasn’t a normal husband. And our marriage was just an act for the benefit of others.
I nodded, pretending—even to myself—that I didn’t care. “Right. Thanks for bringing the stuff.”
“I’ll come back tomorrow,” he said as he stood. “For another game. If you want.”
I looked up, surprised. “You don’t have to. I’m sure there will be plenty of witnesses who saw you stay late tonight. Your devoted husband image is secure.”
Something flickered across Alexander’s face at that. It almost looked like pain, but it was gone before I could get a good read on it.
“I’ll come anyway,” he said. “Maybe your chess skills will improve with a good night’s sleep.”
I couldn’t tell if he was joking or serious, but I didn’t dwell on it. “Alright. See you then.”
Alexander nodded and moved toward the door. But before leaving, he paused and looked back at me.
“Sleep well, Ella.”
And then he was gone.
My heart fluttered traitorously in my chest. What was wrong with me?