My jaw tightened.
I got up from the sofa and crossed to the bed the moment I noticed Inna shift beneath the blankets. She turned her face toward me slowly as consciousness returned in pieces. She hasbeen out for twelve fucking hours.
“Hey.” I reached out and touched her face.
She looked present but not fully assembled yet, her eyes drifting around the room, settling nowhere for long. I sat beside her on the bed as she pushed herself upright, her back resting against the headboard. I covered her hands with mine where they lay on her lap.
“You’re finally awake,” I said. “Didn’t we agree you weren’t allowed to drink?”
“I’m fine.”
“Of course you are. I don’t keep a doctor here for decoration.” I studied her face carefully, watching the color slowly return beneath the exhaustion. “How do you feel?”
“I’m fine.”
She was fine. She must have fallen in love with those two words. I nodded once and stood, moving toward the door.
The doctor stayed in the sitting area most of the day, checking on Inna every hour. At some point, he removed the oxygen mask and disconnected the IV. Caitlin was there too. She looked up immediately when I appeared.
“Examine her again,” I told the doctor. He nodded and headed inside. I turned to the maid. “Bring her food. Something light.”
“Yes, sir.” The maid bowed and left.
Caitlin stood quickly before I walked back to the room. “Can I see her?”
“Go ahead.”
She entered first, and I followed behind her. The doctor was already checking Inna’s pulse when I stopped near the bed. Caitlin sat beside her. “You scared me,” she said. “How do you feel?”
“I’m fine.”
I was beginning to hate those two words. Apparently, she had decided they could replace actual conversation entirely.
The doctor finished and turned toward me. “She’s stable. She’ll need medication, fluids, and light meals for the next day or two. Weakness is expected, but medically everything looks good.”
I nodded and dismissed him. He left just as the maid returned, carrying a tray.
I moved toward the window and stayed there while Inna forced herself through a few bites of food. Caitlin helped by talking constantly in a low, careful voice about meaningless things.
Nearly an hour passed before the room was ours.
Inna took her medicine, pulled the blankets higher, and lay back down. I dragged a chair closer to the bed and sat beside her.
My hand moved to her hair, brushing the strands away from her face before tucking them behind her ear. My thumb stroked slowly across her cheek.
“You won’t be doing that again,” I said. “From now on, it’s water, milk, or fresh juice. Nothing else. I’m not negotiating on that.”
“I’m fine.”
“That’s the fourth time you’ve said that.” My thumb continued moving against her skin. “Where does it hurt?”
Her fingers tightened around the blanket, but she remained quiet.
“You aren’t supposed to put your husband through something like this.” My voice stayed low. “We need to discuss that.” I watched her carefully. “Is this what you do to the people you consider special?”
“Let’s end it.” The words came out barely above a breath, but they landed with enough weight to stop my hand mid-stroke against her cheek. She looked me in the eye this time and said it again. “Let’s end the marriage.”
I slowly pulled my hand away from her face and dragged it through my hair once. “Is that what you want?”
