Page 216 of A Matter of Time

“The architect…all right, then, this is making sense. He’s been in and out, the architect, been adamant about your care. And the doctor…the doctor’s been vigilant, I’ll grant you, but this one…” She sighed, looking at Sam. “This one wouldn’t leave your side. The others have all come and gone, but not him. He hasn’t left the hospital in eight days.”

My eyes widened.

“Yes, sweetheart, eight days you’ve been here in intensive care.”

I looked back at Sam. I wanted him to wake up and hold me.

“And that man is not in good shape.”

I absorbed that news.

“Hopefully now that you’re awake, he’ll cry…because I don’t think I can stand to look at his face another day. I have never seen such wounded-looking eyes.”

I could only stare at her.

“Maybe we should wake him so he can go home.” She smiled at me, her face hopeful. “He only eats when his mother makes him, and like I said, he hasn’t left the hospital even once.”

I shook my head no.

“You two must make a handsome couple.”

I tried to smile.

“And you’re very lucky, because not only is this a man who loves you, but he is also just beautiful to look at.” She sighed. “And so is your brother, by the way. Reminds me of one of those matinee idols from the forties. Not that I’m that old, mind you.”

I nodded.

“And you, sweetheart”—she smoothed my hair back from my face—“you’ve got to be about the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.”

I groaned.

“Man,” she corrected herself, smiling warmly. “I meant man.”

I rolled my eyes, and she chuckled.

“I’m going to call your doctor now that you’re awake so we can get this show on the road.”

Alone with Sam, I tried for a minute to say his name before I gave up and fell asleep.

I woke up, and after I focused a minute, I saw Nick Sullivan. Funny that he was there, a man I had only been on two dates with, a man who was barely my friend. I had set him up on a blind date that went very well—he should have been with his new love interest, not keeping vigil over me. He was standing beside the bed looking down at me, arms folded across his chest and looking oddly uncomfortable.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice scratchy.

He swallowed hard and continued to stare at me.

“Nick?”

He took a deep breath and looked me up and down. There were tubes and cords, and there was an oxygen monitor clipped to my middle finger. “I want to hold you, but I’m not sure how.”

Hold me? “Are you all right?”

“No, I don’t think so. I just want to be close to you.”

I tried to smile because that wasn’t what I wanted. I went for a diversion instead. “May I please have a drink of water?”

He jumped to do it for me.

“Jory.”