“Better?” I whispered.
He hummed a soft yes, already half-asleep again.
I lay there in the dim light, wide awake, with his hand over my heart and the distance between us feeling smaller, but not gone.
Chapter 24
Between Relief and Resentment
ELI
The first thing I noticed was the smell.
Coffee. Real coffee. Not the watered-down stuff from a hospital machine or the instant crap my mom favored when she came to visit, but Adrian’s coffee, dark roasted and burned at the edges because he always forgot to turn the pot off.
For a second, I thought I was dreaming again.
The bedroom was still dim, curtains half-drawn, sunlight bleeding through the edges. The ache in my chest reminded me I wasn’t in the hospital anymore, though my body didn’t believe it yet. Every breath came with a tug of pain, sharp and raw, as if my ribs and lungs were still arguing with the idea of healing.
I rolled onto my side carefully and saw the emptiness beside me. The pillow still held the faint indentation of his head. He’d stayed the night.
I pushed myself upright, breath catching halfway there, and waited out the wave of dizziness. The smell of toast joined the coffee. Then the sound of him muttering softly to himself, a rhythm I knew too well.
He was home.
He was here.
And I didn’t know what to do with that.
“Adrian?”
My voice came out hoarse, scraping on the way up. I cleared my throat and tried again.
“Adrian.”
Footsteps padded quickly up the stairs and down the hall. A second later, he appeared in the doorway, hair a mess, sleeves pushed up, the kind of half-dressed that meant he’d been awake for hours but hadn’t quite faced the day yet.
“You okay?” His voice was calm, doctor-smooth, but his eyes were already scanning, assessing, calculating. Always the professional, even now.
“Bathroom,” I croaked, my throat raw and dry as gravel.
“You need help getting up?”
I nodded. Talking hurt. Everything hurt.
He crossed the room in three long strides and kneeled beside the bed. His hand slipped beneath my arm, careful not to press too hard against the bruised side of my ribs.
“Slow,” he murmured. “Don’t twist your torso. Let me take most of the weight.”
I nodded, jaw clenched, and let him guide me upright. My chest pulled tight with each inch I gained. When I finally madeit to sitting, I had to rest, breathing through the throb while his hand stayed braced at my back. The room tilted for a second as the walls quivered. He steadied me until the world stopped swimming.
“Better?”
I nodded again, too winded to speak. Sweat slicked my temples. Adrian reached for the glass of water on the nightstand and held it out, fingertips brushing mine as I took a sip.
“I was going to come check on you in a minute,” he said softly. “I didn’t want to wake you if you were finally sleeping.”
“Wasn’t sleeping,” I managed. “Just lying here pretending I could do this on my own.”
