The walk to the hospital felt heavier than it should. His legs moved on autopilot, but his chest weighed more with every step. By the time he got to the reception desk, he couldn’t even look the woman in the eye. “Here to visit a classmate,” he muttered, and she smiled like he was some damn romantic. She told him your room number. He didn’t say thank you.

The hallway was sterile and too bright, the kind of place where time froze and everything felt like waiting. When he reached your door, he stood there for a second, hand on the knob, heart doing this slow, unfamiliar rhythm that almost felt like guilt. He hadn’t felt that in a long time. Maybe ever. Then he opened the door.

You were alone. No flowers, no visitors. No get-well cards. No signs that anyone else had come to check on you. Just you, sitting up in bed, a blanket over your lap and your leg propped up in a cast. Tyler stood there in the doorway for a second too long before exhaling and stepping inside. He shut the door behind him, quietly. The bouquet felt stupid now, but he walked forward anyway, until he was standing by your bed.

Slowly, he leaned down and placed the bouquet on your lap, careful not to disturb your cast. He didn’t even look you in the eye. Just stared at your blanket as if it held all the answers he didn’t know how to ask.

“I’m probably the last person you want to see,” he finally said, his voice low and strange in his own ears, like it didn’t belong to him. “But… uh…” He paused, throat tight, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve.

“I guess thanks for not telling them that I pushed you. For not throwing me under the bus. I don’t… I don’t get why you didn’t. But… yeah.”

He didn’t know how to say sorry. He never had. He didn’t grow up with people who apologized. In his world, you won, or you shut up about it. But this wasn’t that. He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze again.

“I didn’t mean for you to fall. Just so you know. It wasn’t like… I didn’t think—” He stopped himself. What was he even doing? Explaining? Justifying? You weren’t the type who needed his excuses. Another breath.

“I know this doesn’t fix anything, but… uh… I will at least pay for your hospital bill. Anyway,” he said, voice dulling again. “That’s all. You probably want me gone. So…”