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“Ten years ago. Almost eleven. We’ll do another one. It’s not worth the risk. Are you lightheaded?” I asked as I glanced up at him.
“Yeah.”
“Tired?”
“Yeah.”
My gaze slid to Michael, both of us partaking in the silent conversation.
He really should have gotten a transfusion if he was feeling so off. But I knew Seeley. That was never going to happen.
“What are the chances of getting you to take some iron pills for the next week or two?” I asked, soaking the sterile gauze in an antibiotic liquid then pushing it into the wound, wincing as Seeley’s whole body jerked hard.
“I’ll take whatever you tell me to take,” he said, jaw so tight that he could barely enunciate the words.
“That’s it for that,” I assured him. “This will be easier.”
“And this will help,” Michael said, producing the pain pills that we so carefully monitored. “Don’t worry,” he said, looking at me. “This is one of Dr. Laurier’s,” he told me, smirking. “He left them on your desk. This way, we don’t have to account for it.”
“That was smart,” I said, giving him a small smile.
“Can’t have the random, hot bikers ruining our records,” Michael said, getting Seeley a cup of water to take it with.
“Okay. Let me go scrounge up some iron to get you started on,” Michael said, turning and leaving the room.
“Ama,” Seeley called, voice soft, and I tried hard not to be affected by it. And failing miserably, by the way. There was just something about a hard man using his soft voice on you that could give you the shivers. Luckily, just the internal ones.
“Yeah?” I asked, glancing up from putting dressings on the other, less deep wounds.
“Thank you for this.”
There was so much genuine gratitude in his tone that, for the span of a moment, all the other shit fell away.
“Don’t be too grateful. I will be charging you for this,” I told him. “Though we are going to get creative and call these ‘puncture wounds’ on the forms.”
“I’ll pay whatever it costs. Double, even. For the headache.”
“Do you have insurance?”
“Funny, remember someone telling me once that good insurance could literally save my life,” he said, and we both knew I’d been that person.
“And that the bad insurance could all but end it,” I finished for him.
“I took that to heart. I’ve got the best I could find.”
“And probably pay a hefty premium since you’re still fuckingsmoking,” I said, actually slapping the bandage on his stomach, making him let out a curse before chuckling.
“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t smoke much anymore.”
“It would makeyoufeel better to stop completely,” I told him as I moved over to the sink to wash my hands.
“We all have our vices. Or do you not have a whole drawer full of sea salt caramel chocolates at home?” he asked, reminding me again just how well he knew me. Even after all these years.
I mean, really, who remembered details like that?
In a world full of men who forgot theirwife’sfavorite flower or her damn birthday, Seeley remembered one tiny fact about me from years and years ago.
“Chocolate is, objectively, good for you in small quantities,” I informed him. “The magnesium is good for you. Especially women.”
