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I opened my eyes and saw him slumped in the chair, fast asleep. Not an easy sleep, I could tell by the slackness in his posture and the shadows across his face that it was more out of exhaustion than a restful sleep.
I was shocked by his appearance. Connor was wearing a smart looking button down shirt and sweater, but the collar poking out of the top was rumpled and it looked like he’d slept in it. Dark circles stood out under his eyes, and several days growth of stubble peppered his chin. My heart ached to see him that way.
His palm lay open on his leg, and I lightly touched it. Connor startled, gasping through his nose as he blinked awake. His hand instinctively sought mine and he stared, noticing that not only was I awake, but I was there.
“Hey,” I said, lips twitching into a tired smile.
“Hey,” he breathed. “You’re awake. How’s your pain? Let me go get the nurse.”
I didn't want the nurse and a thousand unending questions. The pain wasn't bad, just a general ache in my entire body, which meant that the pain meds were keeping up.
“No, please,” I grabbed his hand and held him there “Not yet. Please, just stay. Don’t leave me.”
His face fell. “Never. Cass, I’m never leaving you, I prom—” He bit back the word, clenching his jaw.
Connor sat, taking my hand in both of his. His expression softened as he looked at me, but his eyes still scoured my face, watching for even the slightest hint of pain.
“How long have I been here?” I asked.
“About a week.” His face twisted. “You were pretty out of it for a long time, and I wanted to be right here in case you woke up.”
In case I was scared and didn't know where I was, he meant. He didn't have to say it. It was hazy, but I remembered some of it.
Connor hesitantly reached up and caressed the side of my face, and I leaned into his touch. I wanted more. I wanted him to hold me, to wrap his arms around me because it was his hands that took away the pain and drove away the darkness.
He didn't though. Connor kept his hand there, and I wondered if he was afraid to touch me. If he was afraid of hurting me more.
“Connor, are you okay?”
“Me? Sweetheart, I'm fine.” He shook his head. “You don't need to worry about me. You're awake now, and I'm right here with you. You're going to be okay."
“How bad is it?” I asked, holding up my wrist.
Connor filled me in, though the conversation was stilted. Both of us danced around the subject of what actually had happened in the basement room, and the lengths he had gone to in finding me. I could tell Connor wasn’t trying to push. I was grateful. The lock was still firmly on that box, and I wasn’t ready to open it just yet.
“They’ll probably keep you here a few more days and run some tests, now that you're awake.”
Connor kept speaking, but I wasn’t listening. Tests…tests…that word was triggering something…something I should remember…
Go. Take a couple hours, I'll cover for you. Get a pregnancy test to make sure, and go tell him."
My eyes went wide.
“Cass? Sweetheart, what’s wrong. Are you in pain? What’s—”
“Connor, when they ran their tests, did they…am I…”
My hand crept down over my belly protectively. Connor had been half on his feet and reaching for the nurse’s call button, but he followed the path of my hand and realized what I was trying to ask.
He nodded.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Eight weeks. How did you know?”
“I didn’t,” I said. “I had been feeling sick the last couple of days. Morning sickness, I guess, and Jerome was the one who called me out on it. I was going to get a pregnancy test when—”
I cut off sharply, remembering. A shadow fell over my face and my breathing picked up. Connor tightened his grip on my hand and said my name, grounding me and bringing me back to the present.
