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“Declan…I’m so sorry for what happened the night Doctor returned. I’m so sorry that you didn’t know. At first…” I shake my head. “After the burrow, I thought someone would tell you. So I kept away. Out of shame, I suppose, and perhaps a bit of practicality. And then, when by chance no one did—when no one spilled my secret…I suppose I saw a way into the light. Just for a moment.” I swallow.

I choose not to reveal more about Doctor that night. What Declan just told me should remain center-stage.

Doctor doesn’t come up until the next morning, when Sailor awakens just before his NSAID dose and starts to tremble. He is radiating pain. He grits his teeth and whispers, “I know that fucker hurt you. More than once. Tell me he didn’t…but don’t lie to me.”

I nearly laugh at that. As he holds the tincture under his tongue, I rub my cheek against his. “Don’t worry about that. He’s gone and we’re still here.”

“You were scared of him.”

I rub his hair. “Carnegie,” I murmur.

“I scared you,” he groans, “that night. I’m sorry I scared you.”

I abandoned him there on the floor when Doctor appeared, and it’s he who’s sorry. I realize something more in that moment: It must have bothered him…to see me that way, beneath Doctor. Given his own background…

“It makes sense, though, your reaction. Please, let’s not dwell there. I want to be here with you. Only here, and nowhere else.”

His tired eyes well. “You do?”

“Yes.” I wipe his eyes and brush a kiss over his lips.

“I might not play again.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know about my shoulder…”

“You still have to endure rehab with it, yes?”

“It might not come back…good enough, though.” He looks anguished.

“I’ll be praying it does, if that’s what you want.”

“You still pray?” His voice cracks, and I stroke his damp cheek.

“I’ll always pray.”

I help him swallow some Advil and feed him a bit of bread and more tincture.

“I don’t see the point.” His eyes are shut now. I can’t read his face.

“It’s okay if you don’t.” I mean it sincerely.

I wrap myself around his lower body, hugging him about the waist, and Declan groans. “I wanna touch you.”

“I know, love.” I kiss his side, and he groans…and I realize I can see him straining at his pants.

“Touch me.”

My hands hover above him. “Are you sure?” My eyes search his. “What if it hurts?”

“Please. If you want to,” he rasps.

Relief fills me as I realize the tincture is working a bit now. I can scarcely stand to see him hurting.

“I want to make you feel good.” I start stroking him, and he groans, lifting his hips. “Does that hurt?” I murmur.

“Fuck, no. It’s been ten days.”

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