How long had it been since they had a conversation like this? That thought caught them both off guard. They used to have moments like this—so natural, so warm. But the fire... the fire had burned away all those memories, leaving nothing but ashes in room 2307 of the Hilton Hotel. Emily was the first to break the silence, trying to shift the conversation. "I wasn't trying to barge in or anything... it's just that I didn’t hear anything for a while, and I got worried something happened to you..." “Emily.” “Hm?” Satan chuckled softly, “It’s nothing.” Emily frowned, “Just say what you want to say.” “I just want to say... I’m happy.” Satan exhaled, a bit wistful. “You’re worried about me, and that makes me happy.” “Don’t get the wrong idea. I was just—” Satan gently cut her off, “It doesn’t matter why. Whatever the reason, I’m happy.” Emily let out a small, defeated laugh, shaking her head, “Whatever, I can never win an argument with you.” She reached out, holding onto his arm. "Let me help you back to bed." “Not yet,” he said, pulling away slightly. “I sent you out earlier so I could call Grandma, to put her mind at ease.” Emily hesitated, her hand frozen mid-air. “You needed to send me out just to call her?” “It’s not that,” Satan explained, his voice soft. “She’s been pushing us about the wedding and having kids. I know how you are. You’d feel bad about it and go along with it just to make her happy, and I don’t want that. I don’t want you to marry me because of pressure from Grandma.” Emily couldn’t help but smile wryly. “If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have come back with you in the first place.” “I know,” Satan nodded, looking somewhat despondent. “These past few days in bed have given me time to reflect. Have I been using your kindness? But then there’s Jackson. He was upfront with you about how he felt. When you turned him down, he respected that and stayed by your side as a friend. He helped you rebuild your life, spent three years by your side without ever trying to force you into something you didn’t want. And then I look at myself... maybe I haven’t been as good to you as I should’ve been. Maybe I couldn’t even compare to him.” Satan’s voice grew quieter. “And now, with my health... I don’t even know if I can protect you until we grow old together, or if I’ll be gone before you. I’ve thought about letting go, about stepping aside so you can be with Jackson. You two could go back to the UK, live that peaceful life you always wanted... away from all this mess in New York.” His words hung in the air for a moment before he added, “But I can’t do it. I finally got you back. I can’t just let you go.” There was a hint of sadness in his tone, a mix of resignation and desire. “I don’t know the perfect solution, so I’m leaving the choice up to you. You decide how you want to live the rest of your life. Don’t worry about Grandma—I’ll explain everything to her.” “Stop talking,” Emily said, frowning. “Emily…” “The doctor said you shouldn’t be talking so much. How can you still be going on like this?” she scolded him. “I’m an adult. Yes, I’m soft-hearted, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let myself get pushed around forever. I have my own boundaries. How I choose to live my life—that’s for me to decide. You don’t need to feel so guilty.” “...You’re right.” Emily glanced at him. “So, all this time, you’ve been talking to Grandma, but you still haven’t gone to the bathroom, huh?” Satan’s face turned a little red. He looked away, embarrassed. “…Could you leave for a minute?” “There’s a door to the bathroom. You can just close it.” “I, uh… I also wanted to take a shower,” he muttered. “It’s been a few days.” Emily sighed. “I won’t hear anything from out there. If you fall, I wouldn’t even know. Don’t worry, I won’t peek. I’ll stand by the window.” With that, Emily locked the door to the room and walked over to the window, standing with her back to him as she looked out at the street below. Behind her, she heard the soft click of the bathroom door closing. He was in the bathroom. Emily rummaged around the cabinet, looking for clean clothes. There weren’t any.Hadn’t Dylan brought his clothes yet? She glanced toward the bathroom door, uncertain. The sound of running water filled the room, and she assumed Satan couldn’t hear her anyway. It’s fine, he probably has clothes prepared. It had been three years, but she still had that instinct—getting his clothes ready for him while he showered so that he could change when he came out. Of course, back then, most of the time he’d just come out wrapped in a towel, only to scoop her up and toss her onto the bed. Back then, they would always make love at night. Those blush-worthy nights… just thinking about them made her heart beat a little faster. Love is such a strange thing. The way she fell for Satan back then—it was almost nonsensical, like there had been a barrier between them. She hadn’t even known who he really was, but she fell in love anyway. Love had been so simple. But after all the pain she’d been through, the idea of falling in love again seemed impossible. Jackson was good to her. She knew that. In every way—family, personality—Jackson was the right choice for her. But she couldn’t love Jackson. There was someone else in her heart, someone she couldn’t get rid of, no matter how hard she tried. No one else could ever take his place. She had considered it, back in the UK—maybe she could marry a regular guy, take care of him, have his kids, and live a quiet, uneventful life. They’d have family, but she’d never be able to love him. As for Jackson… Let’s wait a bit longer. Once Satan’s health improved, she’d talk to Jackson about everything. The sound of water in the bathroom stopped. “Emily,” Satan called. Emily snapped out of her thoughts. “I’m here. What is it?” “I’m sorry... but could you help me?”She responded, “What do you need?” “I think I need you to help me stand.” Emily faced the door but kept her back to it. “Have you put your clothes on?” There was no response. She waited for a few seconds, but he still didn’t answer. Gritting her teeth, Emily turned around, “Are you okay?” “I’m not… doing too well.” His voice sounded weak. “Alright, I’m coming in,” she said, not wanting to delay any longer as she opened the bathroom door. The sight before her made her freeze in place. Satan was leaning weakly against the wall, barely holding himself up. And his body was covered in large, gruesome burn scars. “I’m sorry, Emily… did I scare you?” His breathing was getting shallow. “I just… can’t stand anymore.” Emily’s eyes filled with tears. She rushed over and helped him stand, letting him lean against her. “Hang in there. Let me get you back to bed.”