“A little past five,” he said, sparing a thought for Alternate Universe Gray and what he was allowed to do now that Alternate Universe Meredith was awake. “You okay?”
Nodding, she reached her hands up in a stretch before rolling her neck. Then she stood, and the dogs rose with her. “I just need to move. I was still for too long,” she said, now twisting her torso and forcing Gray’s eyes to the swivel of her hips.
She came around the side of his desk. “How are you feeling?” Before he could answer, she was touching him again, running her fingertips over his brow. He felt it in every cell.
“I’m… okay,” he managed, letting his eyelids drift closed so he could drink in the feel of her and concentrate on keeping his own hands away.
She cupped him under the chin. “Look here,” she said, guiding him to meet her eyes. “I want to check your pupils.”
He made himself open his eyes as a little piece of him died. She wasn’t touching him because she couldn’t help it. She was touching him like a nurse would. Gray had to admit to himself that he would just be the first in a long line of Nurse Ryan’s patients who would endure the bittersweet agony of her care.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, smiling down at him.
Only inches separated their faces. He could pull her down to him in a blink.
“You look so grim all the sudden.”
Gray shook free of her grasp. “Maybe I just need some air.” He swallowed. “Should we go for a walk?”
At the wordwalk, the dogs perked their ears and took off. Meredith was laughing before they hit the stairs. “I guess so.”
THE WALK WAStorture.
Gray had to stop himself from reaching for her hand every two minutes. As they walked, she told him about her strolls with Oscar. When she looked away and admitted they were the best part of her day, he had to fight the urge to take her in his arms. He asked why she wanted to be a nurse, and he wasn’t at all surprised to hear her completely selfless response.
“To help people who are hurting and afraid,” she told him.
When he wondered aloud what she did for fun, she talked about her best friend Brooke — who sounded like Meredith’s one champion and her love of British comedies.The IT Crowdwas her favorite, and her imitation of Maurice Moss surprised him into reckless laughter.
She leaned into him then, laughing too, and it took everything in his power not to hold her against him.
“Bax turned me onto that show,” he said, putting the focus of his mind elsewhere. They’d started watching it after Cecilia. He never admitted it, but Bax had been on a mission to make them both laugh as much as possible after she was gone.
What would Bax turn to if he didn’t survive the surgery?
Gray shuddered at the thought.
“Cold?” Meredith asked, looping an arm around his elbow.
She was going to kill him. That was all there was to it. But as much as her sweet gesture drove him mad, it also drove away his grim thoughts. And with Meredith, they could stay away far longer than when he was on his own.
Hours later, after they’d eaten apple pie for dinner up in his study — while he wrote and she read a textbook — Gray closed his laptop when he realized Meredith was struggling to keep her eyes open. He would continue writing, but he wasn’t about to keep her up while he did.
“I think we should call it a day,” he said, standing. “C’mon. The spare room is just down the hall.”
He made sure she had everything she needed, including two extra blankets, and then he carried his laptop down to his room. After changing into a pair of pajama bottoms, he pulled back the quilt on his bed and froze.
Gray stared at the bedding. Olive and charcoal-striped sheets stared back at him. Certain he’d slept in his navy blue sheets that afternoon, Gray frowned. Either his tumor was invading his memory, or Meredith had changed his sheets.
The thought made him slightly ill.
Reaching for his phone, Gray didn’t quite know what to hope for. He’d noticed subtle instances of memory loss in the last few weeks. Starting the washing machine and forgetting to load it. Having to look up a phone number two or three times because he couldn’t commit it to memory. That sort of thing. If he’d gone through the bother of changing the sheets himself and couldn’t recall doing so, it was definitely time for another scan.
But the thought of Meredith dressing the bed for him? Nurses changed sheets countless times a day on shift. It was part of the job — just like giving a sponge bath or replacing a catheter tube. It was something they did for patients who couldn’t help themselves.
Patients who had seizures that took them down.
He couldn’t stand it if she saw him that way. Gray took out his phone and typed a message.
