Page 37 of Unspoken Love

“I was afraid too,” she admitted. “I’m sorry. I let that woman get to me.”

“Don’t be sorry.” His voice cracked, so he cleared it and tried again. “I shouldn’t have pushed your like that over the past few days.”

“It wasn’t that, it was…” She looked down at their joined hands. “It was a rude customer that wouldn’t stop yelling and videotaping me. Her son was playing this stupid loud game that kept causing my implant to ring. I suppose I was upset and stressed and then”—she shrugged—“there was nothing. It was as if I was underwater. I panicked and just… dropped.” Her voice hitched as he pulled her into his arms and held onto her. “It was like before. All those years I went without. I’ve feared the day would come again.” She sobbed. “Losing it all for good this time. Not a single sound made it through.”

He brushed a hand over her hair and just held her. “That must have been real scary.”

She looked up at him again. “I just called my specialist in Portland. They can get me in next week.”

“Good.” Relief hit him hard.

Dr. Stevens poked his head in just then. “I’m releasing her,” he told Nate. “Vitals are strong. She just needs rest and quiet. Lots of both. And to follow up with her specialist. I don’t want you driving for the next couple of days,” he said to Faye. Then to Nate, he added, “Make sure to look after her for the next twenty-four hours” before walking away.

Faye hopped off the table. “Dr. Stevens told me that I can’t lift a paint sprayer for at least forty-eight hours.”

Nate snorted. “Make it seventy-two.” He took her hand in his. “Since my place is pretty messy right now, how about we stop over there and I pack a bag and crash at your place for the night? That way I can watch you like the doc wants.”

She nodded slowly. “I don’t really want to be alone right now.” Her lip trembled just slightly. “Thanks.”

“For what?” he asked with a slight frown.

“For showing up.”

He kissed her hand. “Get used to it.”

She leaned forward, resting her forehead briefly against his. He wanted to carry her home, tuck her under blankets, and stay glued to her side for the rest of the weekend.

“Come on,” he whispered. “Let’s get you out of here.”

When they stepped out of the exam room, Dr. Stevens held out a small folder. “For your specialist. Call me if anything changes.”

“Thanks,” Faye said as Nate took the folder and tucked it under his arm.

As they pulled into his driveway, he cut the engine of his truck and gave Faye’s hand one last squeeze before hopping out. The sun was already beginning its descent behind the trees.

“I’ll be quick,” he said.

“I’d love to come see what you’ve done.”

His eyebrows rose slowly. “If you feel up to it.”

Faye gave him a small smile and nodded, so he rounded the front of the truck to open her door and help her out.

He watched her for a beat, just to make sure she was steady, then helped her inside.

“I’ll toss some things into a bag.” He left her standing in the kitchen, looking out at his finished back deck.

His boots thudded against the sanded floors, the faint smell of paint still lingering in the air. But now there was something else too—the scent of sawdust and fresh pine from the cabinets he’d started assembling that morning. The space was beginning to feel more like a home with each passing day.

He tossed in a few essentials—jeans, T-shirts, his razor—and zipped the duffel shut.

“You finished the deck,” came Faye’s voice, full of wonder, from the other room.

Nate stepped into the hallway to find her standing in the dining room.

“Yeah, I put on the last board early this morning,” he said.

“It looks amazing.”