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“You know,” she pauses to cough, and I pour her some water from the pitcher beside her bed, but she doesn’t take it. She waves me off with a single finger when I try to offer it to her. “It’s true what they say.”
I hold the water closer insistently. “What’s true?”
She reluctantly takes a drink of the cool water and sighs in relief for how good it must feel against her throat. “People in comas can hear everything that’s said around them. Now I know all of your dirty little secrets.”
Honestly, at this point, I wouldn’t even care if that was the truth… just so long as I have her back.
“I’m going to tell everything,” she teases after another sip of water. I scoff and shake my head. “But really…” Her face grows serious for a moment as I sit on the bed beside her. I can’t seem to make myself let go of her. I can’t believe that just like that, she’s awake and whole again. “How am I not dead?”
If I had a good answer to that question, I would give it to her—but I don’t. I can’t explain it. “Luck,” I answer simply. There’s no other way to say how she managed to defy all odds and not split her head open on one of the rocks… or worse. “I guess that somebody up there really wants you alive.”
“Is that right?” she teases.
I nod. “That’s right. I think the only thing to do now is to stay by my side from here on out.”
Helena's expression changes to one of confusion, but whatever question she was considering, she decides not to ask. No doubt, the mechanics of the situation are at the forefront of her mind, worrying about Nikolai.
It makes no difference what the cost of all thisis. I'll pay it. I need to keep Henry and Helena as far away from this as possible. The news that her brother has been found and is nearing town... or the news about her beloved Abram... could send her back into a coma. I can't tell her anything until she's completely healed. I'll have her returned to the estate, where I know she'll be safe from whatever is coming next.
I know that it’s going to be something big, but I’m not going to worry her about it until I absolutely have to.
“If you heard everything in your coma then certainly you heard that I’m going to take care of everything,” I assure her. I think that over the course of the last three days I’ve promised her everything imaginable to get her to open her eyes again.
I don’t ever want to have to go through this sort of fear again.
“The only thing that you need to do from here on out, dear, is get better… and stay by my side.”
Helena glances at me with a flicker of uncertainty, but then nods. I position myself beside her in the hospital bed so that she can curl into my chest. “For as long as you’ll have me.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
Helena
It’s strange to think of Daniel’s house as my home.
It’s so strange to think that he kidnapped me and brought me here so recently, and now I feel more at ease here than I can remember feeling with anybody other than Abram. A homecare nurse who has a very no-nonsense attitude comes in to check on me twice a day before heading back to the main house. At least I assume that’s where she’s heading given that I can’t tell for sure from my view out of the window alone.
Physically I’m feeling much better. Just not quite better enough yet to ask what’s going to happen next.
I’m too busy enjoying the solid feel of Daniel’s chest under my cheek. He’s doing something on his phone that I don’t want to look up at and attempt to read. I don’t know if I’m allowed to, anyway. I’m happy enough to just sit here, enjoying the company for as long as he’s willing to allow it. For the first time in my life, I don’t feel like I need to be doing something to earn affection.
If I didn’t know better, I would say that Daniel seems to be relaxed too. Michael comes to visit the room a good deal to steal Daniel away for hushed conversations in the hallway, but he always returns quickly. I think he’s still worried for my health. I probably would be too if the positions were reversed.
As much as I want to ignore it and bask in this neutral happy place forever… I know that we can’t. Nothing like this is ever going to last. It’s not meant for people like me.
It’s been long enough.
“Daniel…” I ask softly as I trail my finger over his stomach. I trace the lines of muscle and shift direction when it meets a line of his tattoo. “When are we going to talk about it?”
His breathing slows for a moment.Where it used to be a comfortable, steady rhythm, it now feels too deep and forced. I know it came out of nowhere, but if we're going to do this... if we're going to give it a shot, we need to talk about it. We need to get everything out in the open so we can move ahead.
I push my thigh over his legs until I’m half on top of him and place both of my hands on his chest. I rest my chin on top of my hands and blink up at him. I never thought that it could be this peaceful attempting to communicate with somebody. I’ve never had the luxury of being blunt or saying exactly what I mean, so I can’t help but feel a little nervous posing such a direct question to him. A part of me expects him to throw my body off of him and tell me to mind my business, or something to that effect.
We’re past that, I hope.
Daniel reaches forward and brushes my hair back behind my ear. The blonde is starting to grow out now, and the dark brown of my roots is starting to peek through. I’m not sure if I’m going to correct it or not. Daniel hasn’t said what he prefers either way. I have to fight the urge to ask him every time I look in the mirror. Another part of being an honest version of myself is not always trying to fit my looks into what somebody else would prefer.
It’s really difficult.
