“I am. I trust you with my life because you’ve saved it. I’ll have to trust you with yours, too.”
She does sniffle then, so unused to anyone placing trust in her that she didn’t have to beg for. “I’m not sure I even trust myself with mine. I won’t take anything because I know you might need it. I promise I won’t, but I’ll think about it, Theo. I’ll fucking think about it again and again, and I dunno if that will ever go away. What if I fail one day?”
His words mumble softly against her skin and she shuts her eyes, nuzzling her face against his forehead. “You don’t have to handle it all alone anymore. I’ll be with you no matter what.”
“Yeah?” Her voice comes out childlike and hopeful with a hint of fear at allowing herself to believe that anyone could truly stay.
“Yeah.”
Any hope of protecting her heart from him is so far behind her now that there’s no chance at salvaging that backup plan. Instead, she might have to trust him with it instead.
She picks up that slow stroke along his spine in a gentle journey that has him melting against her until his body is as heavy as her eyes feel after such a long day. She drifts off in his embrace, hoping that the rest of their journey won’t tear her apart thread by thread until there’s nothing left.
Chapter 16
When Theo wakes, his senses are foggy and his body is on a delay. He blinks groggily up at the peeling ceiling, confusion flushing over him for the briefest moment until a soft hand slips into his, where it hangs off the cot.
“I’m right here. You’re still at the police station. You’re okay.”
It’s Nora’s gentle voice that greets him, and all at once, that anxiety melts as quickly as his heart does at her tender tone. The same one she used before when he woke up on the floor after passing out. It was the first time he didn’t wake up alone after suffering this kind of ordeal.
He hadn’t passed out this time, though. Exhaustion got him instead, but maybe she just knew he might wake up confused because she’s on the floor right beside his cot, ready to soothe that transition, and she has no fucking idea how hard he has longed for the type of connection that makes everything feel better instead of worse. He used to think it was nothing but a beautiful lie meant for everyone but him.
“Hey.” He gives her hand a squeeze before sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge. “Whatcha got there?”
“Protein bars from the drug store.” She holds up two options. “It tastes like dirt. Want one?”
“Hell yes. I’m starving. I wouldn’t turn down actual dirt right now.” He drops down to the floor beside her and snags his ownbar, ripping into it with a ferocity that highlights his growling stomach.
“How are you feeling? You slept the whole day.”
He glances toward the window across the aisle, where only moonlight streams in. “Damn. Doesn’t feel like it’s been that long. Good, I feel good.” He pauses a moment, swallowing a bite, his embarrassment getting the better of him even though it shouldn’t. “I want to apologize for yesterday. What you had to do for me is asking too much. I’m sorry you had to see that.”
Apologizing for his condition is second nature. He apologized to his father every time a migraine would keep him from completing some work-related nonsense project.
He would apologize to his doctor for asking for more pain medication when he’d already met his yearly quota.
He would apologize to his fiancée when canceling plans, when hiding in the dark and clutching at his head was the only viable option.
Even before his brain got scrambled, some part of him was convinced that allowing anyone to help was taking advantage. He is used to handling these things alone, and he’s gotten pretty damn good at it. He takes his pills on time, avoids stress…mostly, and tries to do everything the doctors tell him, even though it never fully helps.
When it’s gotten bad, he has writhed in pain alone and cried out for help that never came, but comparison is a funny thing because he can’t remember it being so bad that he nearly gave himself a lobotomy with the nearest sharp object. Bad enough that Oliver had to peel him off the floor a few times, absolutely. Bad enough that he thought it was the end of the line? Not until last night.
Nora saved his life. Even now, he feels guilty for allowing that kind of sacrifice when she has plenty to worry about that doesn’t involve him and his stupid brain.
“I’m sorry you had to live it.” She catches his stare in a gaze he can’t look away from. “It wasn’t a burden to help you.”
“You went out there alone with a bear on the loose and the dead roaming the streets. If I’d been lucid, I would have told you not to risk it.”
“Then I’m glad you weren’t lucid. Not that I would have listened anyway.”
He nods with amused agreement. “You definitely wouldn’t have.”
“You’d have done the same for me, right?” There’s a hint of hopeful insecurity in that question that betrays how close her fears settle in the cracks of his own.
“I would have. No question.”
“Then don’t worry about it anymore and eat your food before the mice steal it.”
