“Okay. Then I need to check in on my business, and you need to get some sleep. You aren’t going to be much good to anyone in the state you’re in.”
Shane looks up at me like he wants to protest, but eventually just shakes his head.
“I literally can’t think straight,” he says. “Maybe you’re right. You can take my car, if you want.”
“No, that’s okay,” I answer. “You might need it. I’ll just get Trina to pick me up.”
“Okay,” he mutters, putting his head back in his hands.
He really looks bad.
My resentment melts, just a little, overtaken by concern for him.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask. “Maybe you should go to the infirmary.”
“No,” he says instantly. “I’m not that sick. I don’t want them worrying about me, either. It’s like you said—I just need some sleep. Don’t worry about me.”
Worry grows in me despite his words. The only thing that gives me the courage to leave is my resolve to remain objective about the situation and not give in to him for any reason.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll see you later, then.”
He doesn’t answer or raise his head, just waves. I feel a strong urge to go to him, to help him into bed and spend the day caring for him. But it reminds me so much of what I felt for Dan, I recoil from that idea.
I turn around and leave before I can make any stupid mistakes, and while I’m waiting for Trina, I try to congratulate myself for staying strong and not falling into another bad situationship.
If that’s true, then why do I feel so lost?
Chapter 17 - Shane
After Hyacinth leaves, I sit at the table for a while, trying to get up the strength to move. When I finally do get up, I have every intention of going to bed, but my feet carry me towards the front door instead.
I have to go to the infirmary.
By the time I get to the door, I feel a little stronger, and the warm morning sun bathes my face in rejuvenating light. I stand on the porch for a few minutes, trying to keep my mind clear and free of worry.
It’s true that the infirmary doesn’t need me there if I’m sick. I don’t want to be a burden. But at the same time, I just feel guilty as sin being anywhere else.
I close up the house, then go out to the car. I’m so tired that every movement seems to happen in slow motion, and it frustrates me that I’m so weak.
Arriving at the infirmary, I psych myself up a little, then put on a brave face as I hurry up to the doors. I check the charts to see what urgently needs to be done and wave at our nurses and healers while I try to put on a good show of being energetic.
I think I’m nailing it until Kara comes up to me and gently takes my arm. “Shane,” she says softly. “Are you alright? What the hell are you doing here?”
“I’m helping,” I reply. “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.”
“Have you looked in a mirror today?”
“What? Why?”
“Because your eyes are covered in dark rings, and your skin is so sickly and pale, it looks like you just dragged yourself out of a shallow grave.”
“Okay…” I say haltingly. “Shit. I didn’t realize I looked that bad.”
“Please, come out the back with me. Let me give you some fluids.”
“No!” I protest. “Don’t waste any time or resources on me. These people need it more.”
“And we need you!” she yells, tugging on my arm. Her shout shocks me so much, I waver a little on my feet.
