“Thank you,” I tell him.
He wheels the wheelchair into the room and stops it in front of Millie. “How are you feeling, madam?”
She looks a little shocked as she answers. “I’m okay. Thank you.”
“Can I get you anything at all?” he asks her.
“No, but thank you.”
He turns to me. “Sir? Will that be all?”
I nod. “Thanks, Clive.”
He leaves, and I turn to Millie. “Hop in.”
“Excuse me?” she asks.
“Oh, right.” I walk over and pick her up into my arms before depositing her into the wheelchair.
“Wait, I need my ph—”
“No, you don’t,” I say, and I wheel her out the door and toward the elevator before she can try to escape to grab it.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Just on a little excursion. No phones allowed.”
“You still have yours,” she points out, narrowing her eyes at me.
“Good point,” I say, and I leave her in the middle of the hallway as I jog back to her room, open the door with the spare key I snagged from the end table, and leave my phone next to hers.
I wheel her down to the lobby of our tower, and then we go for a walk.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks when we walk into the Coast Tower.
“You’ll see.” I follow the signs until we end up by the tunnels that feature the marine exhibits. There are tons of lagoons showcasing different marine life, and the one we start in has sharks and stingrays along with different types of fish.
“Wow,” she murmurs, clearly in awe as we walk through the first tunnel where the sharks and fish can swim overhead and all around us. It’s not crowded, and I find a spot where I can sort of park us as she looks up and around at everything in this tunnel.
I kneel down beside her. “What’s your favorite animal?”
“I’ve always loved butterflies,” she says. Her choice is very sunshine and sparkles, just like her, but it doesn’t reveal any new depth to her.
“Mine’s the shark. Specifically the mako. They’re fast as fuck and strong as hell, and they tend to travel alone.”
“Like you?” she asks softly.
I lift a shoulder, and we both stare at the fish. It’s quiet in here. Tranquil, almost, and it feels like we’re on a date. Sort of.
“Can I be honest about something?” she asks.
I glance down at her, and she’s looking up at me. “Always.”
“I hate that I don’t have my phone to take pictures…but it feels good not to be tethered to it.”
I can’t help when my lips tip up in a small smile. “You look good without it.”
She presses her lips together and nods as she resumes looking at the fish. It’s perhaps the first time she’s made the realization that she can do things without that device attached to her hand, and for the first time…maybe she even likes it.
