Reborn: Apocalypse Tyrant Endlessly Pampers Her Sickly Lover

Chapter 97: 97-A way to reach her

The smell of warm food filled the room as Aymara returned to Nathaniel’s bedside.

She carried a tray loaded with freshly prepared dishes: spicy noodles, tender meat, and warm tea.

Steam curled from the noodles, carrying the sharp scent of chili and garlic. She carried everything with utmost care as though handling a bomb that might explode of she lessened her careful movements.

After everything that had happened, she wanted to be the one to look after him so the moment she stepped inside, her eyes went straight to the bed.

Nathaniel lay quietly against the pillows, eyes closed, the oxygen mask still covering his nose and mouth. The monitor beside him displayed steady readings, its soft beeping a reassuring contrast to the chaos they had endured earlier.

His vitals were stable now, and the pain that had tightened his face had eased.

Aymara released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her fingers tightened around the tray until the edge pressed into her palms. ”Thank goodness,” she whispered.

She had been terrified when she saw him struggling to breathe. Even now, remembering how pale he had become made her heart ache. She had seen people die in her previous life, watched the world descend into chaos, and learned that survival could never be taken for granted.

Yet nothing had frightened her quite like the thought of losing Nathaniel. Perhaps it was because she had already lost him once: not to death, but to her own foolishness.

She lowered the tray onto the table, pulled a chair closer, and sat down.

Nathaniel didn’t move. Without his usual guarded expression, he looked younger and more vulnerable. Aymara watched him for a long moment before leaning forward. The faint warmth of his skin reached her through the air between them, and she found herself studying the slow rise of his chest as though she could keep it moving by watching.

”Nate,” she whispered.

There was no response from him so she assumed he was asleep. Her gaze lingered on his face. How could someone look so beautiful without even trying?

She had always found Nathaniel attractive. Even when they were younger, his quiet charm had drawn her attention. But she had friendzoned him for so long that she never thought of him of anything more. And after, she had been too preoccupied with Dylan to appreciate what had been right in front of her.

She had spent six years loving a man who had never deserved her. She had defended Dylan, excused his selfishness, and sacrificed her happiness to keep him satisfied. Whenever he disliked something she did, she changed it. Whenever he asked her to give something up, she convinced herself that love meant compromise.

She had even abandoned Nathaniel, the one person who had stood beside her long before Dylan entered her life and for what?

For a man who treated her affection as a resource, calculated what he could gain from her, and showed her exactly how little her life meant to him when the world ended.

Aymara’s lips curled in disgust. ”What an absolute fool I was,” she cursed herself.

She brushed the stray strands of hair from Nathaniel’s cheek. Her fingertips paused at his temple before tracing his cheekbone with a tenderness that surprised her. His skin was warm beneath her touch, and the small intimacy made her pulse stumble.

Nathaniel had always been there. When she was lonely, he listened. When she was frightened, he stayed with her until she felt safe. Even after she pushed him away, he had never humiliated her or made her regret it.

He had simply withdrawn and she had mistaken his silence for indifference. How blind could she have been?

She took his hand in hers. His fingers were warm, the calluses along his palm rough against her skin, and the simple sensation tightened her throat.

”Nate,” she murmured, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. ”If I had known what I know now, I would never have wasted those six years on Dylan.”

She paused, watching the faint shadow of his lashes against his cheeks. ”Actually, forget that. If I could go back in time, I’d have kicked him in the face the first time he tried to tell me what to do.”

A small smile appeared on her lips. ”Then I’d have dragged you somewhere nice, bought you all the food you wanted, and made sure you never had to put up with my nonsense. I’d be your good girl.”

The smile faded when she thought back to that night in the rain. Nathaniel being soaked as he clung to her, desperately holding on to the parts of them that still lingered in her determination to sever ties.

”I hurt you, didn’t I?” Her voice was barely audible as she asked this and she knew the answer. ”I know I did. I can’t undo it just by saying I’m sorry. But I’m going to do better this time. I’m not going to make promises I can’t keep or force you into anything. Since you’ve give me another chance, I’ll cherish it.”

Nathaniel remained motionless throughout. Aymara leaned back and glanced at the food. The noodles had begun to lose their steam, and a bead of condensation slid down the side of the tea cup.

”Of course, you’d have to wake up first to hear all this. And your noodles are getting cold. You’d better recover soon so we can eat together on the same table again.”

Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Aymara frowned. She had finally found a quiet moment beside Nathaniel, and someone had decided to ruin it.

The screen displayed Sarah’s name. For a moment, Aymara stared at it before remembering that she had left the communication connection open after her earlier phone call with Sarah and Dylan. Apparently, they had decided to try again.

’How persistent of her,’ her lips curved up in amusement. She accepted the call and switched on the loudspeaker. ”Hello?”

Instead of Sarah’s voice, Dylan’s voice came through from the other end, ”Ayma?”

Aymara’s smile vanished when she heard his voice and him calling her as intimately as he used to do before.

His voice was soft and almost affectionate, carrying the warmth that had once made her heart flutter. ”Ayma, sweetheart, I’ve been trying to reach you.”

Aymara said nothing. She resumed massaging Nathaniel’s hand between both of hers, her thumb moving slowly over the same knuckle as though the rhythm could anchor her.

”I’ve been worried about you,” Dylan continued. ”The last time we spoke, things got out of hand, and I know we both said things we didn’t mean. But just give me a chance, okay...”

Aymara nearly laughed. She remembered every word he had spoken when she refused to hand over her resources. The contempt in his eyes, the way he sided with Sarah, and how easily he abandoned her when he believed she had nothing left to offer.

Those things had not been accidental. They had been the truth. His truth that she refused to unsee.

”I know you’re angry with me,” Dylan said. ”You have every right to be. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” his voice softened. ”Six years, Ayma. Six years together. Surely that means something to you.”

Aymara’s fingers paused against Nathaniel’s palm, then resumed their gentle movement.

”Go on,” she said flatly. ”I’m listening.”