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I pulled him into a hug and said, “Like hell I don’t.”
He held on to me and said quietly, “But your boyfriend’s back now. And we’re not chained together anymore.”
“About that. When did you figure out how to open the manacles?”
“Um…within ninety seconds of examining them, that first night we spent together.”
“Why didn’t you remove them sooner?”
“I’m so sorry, Charlie. I just…I wanted to stay with you. I know that sounds stupid and pathetic. But I liked being with you. And I wanted to at least have our forty eight hours together, before we went our separate ways.”
I pulled back to look at him and he avoided my gaze, so I gently took hold of his chin and tilted his face up to mine, my arm still around his shoulders. “We’re not going our separate ways.”
His big blue eyes searched my face. “We’re not?”
“Nope. You’re my new roommate, remember? You agreed to move in with me.”
“Why would you still want that? Especially after I tricked you, made you stay chained to me.”
“Why? Because you’re my best friend,” I told him.
“I am?”
“That can’t be news to you, Christopher Robin. After everything we’ve been through together? After the million ways you’ve been there for me? Of course you’re my best friend.”
He smiled at that and put his arms around me again, resting his head on my chest. “You’re mine too, Charlie.”
I kissed the top of his head and held him for a while before finally letting go of him and handing him my house key. “I’m going to try to spend the night here if the staff lets me. You should go home to our apartment and get some rest.”
“Ok, roomie. See you when you get home.” He smiled at me warmly before turning and heading down the street.
The doctors were just leaving, still engrossed in conversation, as I returned to Dante’s room. “Hi angel,” he said with a big grin. I started to sit on the chair beside the bed, and he said, “What are you doing? Come here.” He was laying on his right side, and gestured with his chin to the bed beside him.
“That seems like a really bad idea,” I said. “I don’t want to jostle you.” I reached out and brushed his silky black hair back from his forehead.
“Please?”
I sighed and kicked my shoes off, then gingerly got up on the mattress beside him. “I can’t resist when you ask so nicely.” I carefully lay on my side, sharing his pillow, his face inches from mine.
“Hi,” he said softly, with a sweet smile.
“Hi Dante.” I was smiling too.
His dark eyes searched my face. “My beautiful angel,” he murmured. “Do you have any idea how much I missed you?”
“I have some idea, given the fact that you just jeopardized your health to come home to me.”
He leaned forward so his forehead was resting against mine and let his eyes slide shut. “Totally worth the risk.”
I started to reach out to him, but then stopped myself. “I don’t know where I can touch you.”
“Go ahead and take a look. I’d say it looks worse than it is, but I guess I’d be lying.”
I sat up and pulled the covers back. His left arm was in a cast to mid-bicep, a sling holding it against his stomach, tubes from an IV running into his upper arm. His right hand was in a cast to mid-forearm. His left thigh was bandaged knee to hip. And surgical tape wound around his chest, holding a big square of gauze in place. I drew in my breath and met his gaze. “How close did the bullet come to your heart, Dante?”
He hesitated and then admitted, “An inch.”
“Holy shit.”
“Come here, Charlie,” he said gently. I lay down again, pulling the blanket over both of us and sliding my fingers into his hair, my forehead against his again.
“I almost lost you.”
“But you didn’t. I’m here.”
“Thank God,” I whispered.
I ended up spending all night in Dante’s hospital bed, despite the protests of the entire medical staff. They only backed off when Dante threatened to buy the hospital and fire all of them. He tried to tell me that he’d never be able to sleep here in the hospital, but sheer exhaustion and narcotic pain killers knocked him out within a few minutes. I lay there for a long time, watching over him before I too drifted off.
In the morning, Dante’s forehead was creased with concern. “Are you ok?” I asked him, sitting up and looking him over quickly.
“I didn’t think this through,” he said quietly.
“Didn’t think what through?”
“Coming home to you in this condition.”
“Why? Are you in pain? Should I get the doctor?”
He shook his head. “No angel, I’m ok. I’m getting a steady drip of pain killers from my IV, so I really don’t feel much of anything.” It occurred to me that even if he was in excruciating pain, Dante really wasn’t the type of man to admit it. I’d have to keep a close eye on him, make sure he really was doing ok and not just putting up a brave front.
