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She gently wrapped her arms around me and gave me a light squeeze. “I’ll keep in touch.”
“You better.”
Freddy shot Amanda a smile on her way out.
“Do you need anything? Are you good?” Amanda asked me.
I thought for a moment, smiling at her. “I’m good.”
* * *
It was the middle of the night, and I couldn’t sleep. The TV was on low in the background, and I was watching a 1980s romantic comedy. The antics of the heroine who had gotten herself into a case of mistaken identity had me chuckling every now and again.
I didn’t used to enjoy romantic comedies, but now I realized how much the world needed them. The lightness, the laughter, the happily ever after. Life so rarely looked the way you thought it was going to. But in cinema, in the world of love, everything always worked out. It was a beautiful lesson to remember—that sometimes, some dreams really did come true.
The door to the hospital room opened. I frowned in confusion, wondering if it was Babs peeking her head in to check on me. She was the nurse on duty for the night.
It was Boxer.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. “And how did you get past Babs?”
“Woman, please,” he said. “You’re still doubting my charms?”
“No, I’m not doubting your charms, but it is the middle of the night, and there are such things as visiting hours.”
He shrugged and looked at the TV. “What are you watching?”
“Something fun.”
“Can I watch with you?”
“Sure.” He came around to the side of the bed and gently lowered himself next to me. He put an arm around me, tentatively, like he wasn’t sure if it would be accepted.
I leaned my head against his shoulder, my eyes drooping shut. Boxer’s comfort in the moment was a natural sedative.
“I couldn’t bear the thought of you sleeping here alone,” he said finally. “I just wanted to be with you.”
Emotion rolled through me, and I blinked back tears.
“I’m surprised you’re awake,” he said.
“It’s harder to sleep without the morphine.”
“You’re not taking morphine?”
“I am, but my dosage is way down. Enough to dull the pain, but not enough to really knock me unconscious.” I paused. “I’m afraid of what waits for me in my sleep.” I turned my head and sniffed him. “You showered.”
“Glad you noticed.”
I breathed in the scent of his cologne on his skin and tried to hold it in my mind. Every now and again, I’d take a deep breath and remember the scent of sandalwood and the acrid stench of my fear. I didn’t need to physically be in that jail cell to stillbethere. I exhaled slowly, letting go of the memory for now. Knowing there would never be a day that I could forget it completely, but maybe it didn’t have to poison everything good for the rest of my life.
“We had church,” he said.
“Yeah?”
He reached for the remote that rested on my lap and then muted the television. “They’ve agreed that you can be the one to end Dante.”
“Thank you,” I whispered. “Thank you for giving me that.”
