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Eli studies my face. “Just a random robbing.”
I shake my head.
“Will you stay with him for a bit?” Eli asks. “I’ve been here for over twenty-four hours. I’m starting to stink. I’m going to run home. I need a shower and some new clothes.”
“Yes. Of course,” I say. He gives me a hug again before he leaves.
I quietly enter the room. Bode is asleep. He looks fine, peacefully sleeping. I’m glad he’s not in pain right now. I take a seat beside his bed and then I can’t resist - I take his hand and hold it. Tears run down my face as I watch him sleep.
When he wakes up, he blinks at me a few times and then a smile spreads across his face. “Juno – my Juno, my goddess, you came.”
My Juno? My goddess?He is high as a kite.
“Of course I came, Bode. You nearly died. I was worried sick. How do you feel?” I respond.
With a big smile still plastered on his face, he says, “Junie, I’ve never felt better.”
“I don’t doubt it,” I mutter.
He points at me, his hand is shaky. “You know they stabbed me because of you. Junebug, it’s all your fault.”
I furrow my brow. What is he talking about? Not that it matters - it’s probably just the drugs anyway.
I give a little laugh. “Bode, that doesn’t make any sense.”
He’s still wagging his finger at me. “No, no, it was because of you.”
“Okay, how?” I ask.
“They wanted my wallet, and I hesitated. Stupid fucking thing to do.”
“Why didn’t you give it to them?” I ask. He has so much money. What could possibly be worth getting stabbed for in his wallet?
He nods to the side table where his wallet is sitting. “Eli got it back for me.”
He motions for me to pass it to him. I do, and he opens it. He rifles through it and then his face lights up when he finds what he’s looking for. As soon as he pulls the paper out of his wallet, I know what it is.
He hands it to me, our eyes finally meeting. I pull my gaze away, down to the little drawing I made him of us on the Spanish steps. I honestly didn’t think he’d even kept it much less risked his life for it.
“Why?” I ask.
He frowns. “It’s my most prized possession.”
I just stare down at the wrinkled paper in my hand. I’ve never felt more confused in my life.
“You know what the last thing I thought about before I blacked out was?” he asks.
I pull my eyes away from the sketch. “What?”
“You.” Our eyes lock. Surely this is just the drugs. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.
“I thought about you because you are the greatest regret of my life.”
I jerk my head back.Greatest regret of his life.What does that mean?
“No, no, no.” He waves his hands in the air. “You weren’t my greatest regret. Walking away from you was the greatest regret of my life.”
I gasp.
