“Sloane, you look tired,” he said, walking beside me.
I met his eyes. “You look the same.”
Cameron gave me a small smile. “I am tired. But I’m hanging in there.”
“Yeah, me too,” I mumbled. Then I glanced at him again. “Did you have lunch yet?”
He shook his head. “Not yet.”
I stopped walking, and he did the same. I looked at him closely—he looked even more drained than last week at the bar. “You need to eat something,” I said.
“I will,” he said softly. “After this.” He studied my face. “You’ve got dark shadows under your eyes. Having trouble sleeping again?”
I sighed and kept walking. “I need to go.”
“Sloane,” he called after me, but I didn’t stop.
I passed by the surgical roster and checked Cameron’s schedule. Twenty minutes until his next surgery.
I headed to the cafeteria and grabbed a sandwich, then started looking for him. And I ran into Caroline, who told me Cameron was sleeping in her office.
I found him on the long couch, lying on his back, breathing slowly and deeply. I closed the door behind me carefully, not wanting to wake him, and stepped closer.
I set the sandwich down on the table in front of him, then stood still for a moment, watching.
Gently, I pressed a finger to my lips, then brushed his forehead softly.
Then I stepped back, the quiet ache in my chest pulling me silently out of the room.
Down the crowded hallway, I spotted Gabriel leaning against the wall, two cups of coffee in his hands.
I glanced at the cups, then up at him. “I can’t. I’m so busy.” My eyes flicked to the coffee in his hand, and I grabbed one. “I’ll find you when I have the time.”
“Or maybe we can do dinner again?” he offered, turning to walk with me.
I stopped and looked at him, considering. “Let me get back to you on that.”
Then I turned and walked away.
Chapter Sixteen
Sloane
“Xander,” I whispered, my face close to his. He lay on his side, silent on his bed, a bluish bruise blooming across his cheek, blood dried beneath his nose.
“Talk to me, Xander...”
He shook his head slowly. He didn’t look at me, just stared ahead, vacant, like he wasn’t really there.
Panic rose in my chest.
Father didn’t usually hit him in the face, but this time he did, and I didn’t know why.
I could still hear him—the crash of things being thrown against the wall in his study and his angry screaming.
And Mother, as always, was nowhere to be found.
Earlier, Father and Xander had a huge fight. Their shouting filled the whole house. Xander had always been the one to push back, to fight. Maybe this time, he went too far.
