AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m fine,” she insists but follows me to the kitchen.
“You’re low.” I grab one of the cartons of orange juice I keep in the fridge and hand it to her. I watch as she drinks it, our eyes locked on one another’s.
She’s so damn beautiful that it’s almost painful.
“I have some of those lentils you like. I can whip up a quick salad to eat.” I check my watch, noting the time. We’ll have to wait for fifteen minutes or so to make sure her blood sugar reaches a safe range.
“Now we wait.” The smile she gives me doesn’t reach her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Not liking the way she’s holding her head down, I step in front of her. I move my fingers underneath her chin, giving her nowhere else to look except at me.
“Did that son of a bitch say something to you?” The growl in my voice can’t be helped. I will shatter every bone in her ex’s body before making him go to sleep forever if he did.
“Who?” Her eyebrows furrow. “No,” she quickly replies.
“Don’t lie to me to defend him.”
I watch as she visibly swallows. Her eyes dart away from mine. “Hedidn’t say much,” she finally offers.
“Then it was the woman he was with?”
Heat starts at the back of my neck. I can see it in her eyes. Whatever that woman said to her, is making her feel something I don’t like. A bevy of options start to run through my mind as to how I can handle both of them.
I would never put my hands on a woman, but I have no problem breaking both of Lawrence’s kneecaps for whatever it is he said to that woman that she felt comfortable repeating to Monique.
“Stop it,” Monique says, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“What?”
“I see the way your eyes are darkening. You’re already thinking of ways to get back at him … at both of them.”
Damn.
I sometimes forget how well she knows me. My aim is to always keep the angry beast inside of me locked away from her. She doesn’t need to see that part of me. Not ever.
My lips part. On the tip of my tongue is my refusal but I stop myself. I won’t lie to her.
Instead, I lift her free hand to my lips and kiss her palm.
“I’ll help you with the insulin,” I say, gesturing toward the insulin she’s retrieved from the refrigerator.
Fifteen minutes are almost up, and thankfully, her numbers are on the rise. The next step is an injection and then food.
“I can do it. I’ve been doing this for years.”
“And I’m going to help tonight. Alright?”
She pauses before her lips split into a genuine smile.
After following her into the bathroom, I take the insulin pen from her hand. I look at the numbers on my phone before checking with her the amount of carbs she’ll have with the salad and putting the adequate amount of insulin in the pen.
Having memorized this part, I lift her dress and swipe the right side of her stomach, close to her hip, with an alcohol wipe. A few seconds after the alcohol dries, I pinch her skin and quickly do the injection. She doesn’t even flinch.
My brave girl,I think as I lean in and place a kiss to the site I just injected. A sigh escapes her lips as I lower her dress.
“You’re the only man who’s ever done this.” Her voice is barely above a whisper.
For some reason, that knowledge lights up my insides. “Good,” I say before pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “Time to eat.”
