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I now have a new appreciation for the phrasebe careful what you wish for.I don’t know who coined it, but boy, were they right.
I knew Kaiden embodied all the qualities I was seeking in a man, but I didn’t realize to what degree until after I got home from the hospital. He’s barely let me take a pee without him hovering. If he props my feet up one more time, I’m going to scream. I broke my arm, not my legs.
Kaiden walks into the living room with a folded blanket hooked under his arm. He shakes the fleece material out, then drapes it over my legs—the same legs he’s recently propped up on the coffee table. “You look cold.”
I sigh.Stay calm and remember everything he’s doing, he’s doing out of love for you.
“It’s eighty-nine degrees outside and seventy-five degrees in here. How could I be cold?”
“You’re tiny and injured. Your body is working harder than usual to heal,” he says.
“I’m average in size and you’ve been doting on me for a week straight. I love you, and the way you take care of me makes me love you even more.”But grr.
“Aw, baby, I love you too. That’s why I worry about you. I’m sorry if I’m hovering too much, but you’re the most important person to me in this entire world.”
And after those sweet words, how can I scream “Don’t you have somewhere to go?” like I want to?
He sits down next to me and stretches his legs out beside mine. If he doesn’t need a pillow under his feet or a blanket to cover his legs, why do I?
He wraps his arm around me and I snuggle into his chest.
Okay, this is nice.
He presses a kiss to the top of my head.
I love when he does that.
He pulls a small bag of Swedish Fish from his back pocket, placing it in my lap. “I brought you a snack.”
My eyebrows leap upward on my forehead. “You remember me eating these when I was a kid?”
“Yeah. We used to have them when you’d kick my ass atMario Kart.”
I laugh. “I was really good at that game.”
“We should have a rematch sometime,” he suggests.
“I don’t have it anymore.”
He rises and ambles over to the TV console. Bending down, he opens the sliding cabinet and removes two handheld controls. “Look what I have,” he says, coming back to the couch. Reclaiming his seat, he hands me one of the controllers.
“How long have you had this for?”
“Since yesterday.” He smiles. “Why?”
I wanted to confirm you’re the most thoughtful man in the world and I’m a terrible person for complaining about you doting on me.
“I want to make sure you haven’t been practicing all along.”
“I don’t need to cheat to win,” he states.
“You’re playing someone with a broken arm, dude. You already have an unfair advantage.”
“Stop whining and let’s get down to it. Or are you too scared?” he playfully taunts.
“You better bring your A game, boyfriend. You don’t want to lose to a one-armed girl,” I fire back at him, then smile.
Screw being careful what you wish for. Wish for it all and be grateful once it’s yours.
