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“This isn’t your fault, Kierra,” I reassured her.
“I know, but I should’ve trusted my gut instinct…it could’ve been worse.”
“Let’s not focus on the negatives.”
“That’s hard to do when you look like you’re about to cry a river.”
As if on cue, tears leaked from my eyes, and I angrily swiped them away. “These are positive tears,” I joked.
“Mhm. If it’s all the same to you, I’m in desperate need of physical affection of some sort. I thought Kiyah would be the solution, but I can understand her not wanting to see me like this. She better buck up because I’m getting discharged tomorrow.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea? I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I was launched several feet in the air from a bike and survived with a broken arm, pierced side, and a major case of road rash. I don’t think a measly hug will do me in.”
I didn’t hesitate to wrap my arms around her. I buried my face in her neck and let out all the fear, frustration, anger, and desperation that had built up over the past 24 hours.
“I thought I lost you,” I cried.
She ran her fingers through my hair and attempted to console me.
Man up, Jonathan. It should be me consoling her!
“It’s okay, Jon. You didn’t lose me. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Kierra.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Jonathan
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Kierra attempted to reassure. Her face said otherwise. I checked my watch, and as I thought, it was time for her pain meds.
“You look like you could use another pillow.”
“I’m fine.”
“I’ll be right back.”
“Jon, seriously…I’m okay.”
“I know you are,” I agreed, leaving for my bedroom. I snatched a few of the pillows and returned, finding Kierra with her eyes screwed shut and her hand pressed against her side.
I love this woman, but she’s an annoying patient.
“Kierra…you can’t suffer in silence like this. If you need something, then you need to open your mouth and say it.”
“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “Thanksgiving is tomorrow, and you already have so much on your plate.”
I stroked her cheek lovingly before kissing her temple. “The only thing I have on my plate is you.”
She chuckled softly. “If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought I was about to get some.”
“You can barely move,” I retorted, easing her up to slide the pillows behind her.
“Invalids need love, too,” she remarked.
