Page 11 of Pretty Thing

“Eden, do you know what day it is?”

I hesitate. My brain stutters.

“Sunday…I think.”

“Close enough. It’s Monday now, but only one in the morning,” she says with a smile, jotting something down. “Any discomfort?”

“My head feels…loud,” I admit. “Like a construction crew is inside of it with jackhammers.”

“I’m sorry for waking you up, but we need to monitor the circulation in your arm,” she says as she hangs a new bag of what I think is an antibiotic.

I look away. Just her touching it makes me think of the bone sticking out all over again. When she steps back, I notice the other bed. Felix is lying there sound asleep.

He’s turned on his side, one arm over the edge, his face smooshed into the pillow as if he collapsed onto the mattress. His white hair is a mess, face slack with obvious exhaustion. There’s a faint crease between his brows, like he’s bracing for something. Maybe we both are. I know I am.

Something in my chest tightens when he softly snores. He stayed.

The nurse follows my gaze and smiles.

“You’ve got quite the doting boyfriend,” she says, patting my shoulder.

Boyfriend. The word echoes and bounces around in my head like a pinball machine. I don’t correct her. I don’t say anything at all. It’s probably the only reason they have allowed him to remain in here with me. It’s greedy of me, but I don’t want him to leave.

Instead, a warmth spreads through my chest, tangled painfully with guilt, gratitude, and something dangerously close to comfort.

“He hasn’t left your side unless forced to,” she adds. “I’m going to step out and grab the doctor. Try to rest again for a bit.”

She slips out of the room quietly.

Felix stirs a few seconds later as if he senses someone. His eyes open slowly, then focus on me. They are intense and not just the shade of blue, but the pull I feel toward him. He’s drawing me in, or maybe analyzing me. It’s hard to tell.

“You’re awake,” he says, already sitting up. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” I murmur.

The corner of his mouth lifts.

“That is trucks with an S.”

I swallow.

“Seems like you got some sleep.”

“Guess I did.” He rubs his face.

“Thank you…for keeping me company. I don’t have any family in the province other than my parents.”

When I glance out the window, I see the first hint of dawn. The sky has gone from black to purple.

“I don’t even know where we are.”

Felix looks away, suddenly focused on nothing in particular.

“You’re welcome, but you don’t need to thank me,” he says with a shrug. “I promised I wouldn’t disappear.”

The way he says the last word pulls at my stomach. Felix points to a symbol on the wall.

“We’re at Saint Jude’s Hospital.”