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Her eyes began to blur. She didn’t know how to handle this.
Perry spoke first. “I don’t want you to see me this way. . . . Can you pull the sheet up?”
She reached for it. Her hand settled on his ribs instead. He tensed beneath her fingers, but it couldn’t have been from pain; she was barely touching him.
“I can’t,” she said.
“You can. I know that’s your healthy hand. ”
“I don’t want to. ”
“This is hurting you. I know it is. ”
He was right, she was in agony, but she wouldn’t let him endure this by himself.
“I can’t because I don’t want you to hide from me. ”
He pressed his lips together, the muscles in his jaw flexing.
Shame. That’s what she saw in the shadows in his eyes. In the tears that pooled there.
He closed them. “You’re so stubborn. ”
“I know. ”
He fell quiet. Too quiet, she realized, as the seconds passed. He was holding his breath.
“It wasn’t a fair fight,” he said. “Otherwise I would have won. ”
“I know,” she said.
“You know a lot. ”
He was struggling to make light of this. But how could he? She moved her hand over the ridges of his ribs. Beautiful skin, marred by bruises.
“I don’t know enough. I don’t know how to make this better. ” Anger swelled inside her, the pressure increasing in her chest. In
her heart. It mounted with every bruise she drifted over. “Only a monster could do this. ”
Perry’s eyes fluttered open. “Don’t think about him. ”
“How can I not? How can you not?”
“You’re here. I only want to think about you right now. ”
Aria bit back the words she wanted to speak. Tell me you’re furious. She wanted to hear him rage. She wanted to see a hint of the fire that always seemed to burn inside him. After this—after what he’d been through—would he ever be the same?
“I keep thinking about us,” he said. “How we were at Marron’s and afterward, when it was just the two of us. It was so good being with you. ” He licked his lips. “When we get out of this, let’s go somewhere again. Me and you. ”
The tension in her chest loosened, relief washing over her. He’d said when. Even in his beaten condition, he believed in whens and not ifs. She never should have doubted his strength.
“Where do you want to go?” she asked.
His smile was faint and lopsided. “Doesn’t matter . . . I just want to spend time alone with you. ”
Aria wanted exactly the same thing. And she ached to see him smile—really smile—so she said, “And this isn’t good enough for you?”
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