84. Rosalyn

EIGHTY-FOUR

ROSALYN

A sob breaks through, and I watch Nathan's features crumple.

He's saying everything I've always wanted to hear.

I never wanted to be alone.

Never wanted to be scared.

Never wanted to do what I've done.

"I'm sorry." He lets go of my hands to lightly hold my sides. "Please stop crying. I can't watch you cry. Especially when you're hurting."

"I'm okay," I croak.

I'm not okay.

"No more pretending, remember," Nathan murmurs. "Promise me."

I nod my head once, slowly. "I promise."

Nathan slides his hands off my body and presses them to the mattress, pushing himself up with a groan.

I pull up the edge of the blanket and wipe the dampness from my cheeks. "You shouldn't kneel on the ground like that."

"I'm fine." Nathan cuts his gaze to meet mine. "See? I can lie too."

I drop the blanket. "Except you're not good at it."

He narrows his eyes at me. "Well, you'll have lots of time to teach me your ways over the next three weeks."

I narrow my eyes back. "What do you mean? "

Nathan pats a hand on top of the duffel bag. "I packed all this, plus another bag in my vehicle, because you're coming home with me."

Nathan's SUV pulls up to the sidewalk, and the nurse who pushed my wheelchair down from the room guides me through the automatic front doors.

It's dark out. I've lost all track of time. But I find I don't even care if it's closer to dusk or dawn. All I want to do now is sleep again.

Nathan rounds the front of his vehicle as we reach it and opens the front passenger door.

The wheelchair felt unnecessary, but I can accept that it would've been a long way to use crutches for the first time.

Especially since I still feel like I've been hit by a car.

I snort at my own silent joke, then wince because snorting hurts my head.

"Let's get you in the car before full delusion sets in." There's a smile in Nathan's voice.

I look up to see his smile is soft, but his face shows exhaustion.

I frown. "You don't have to do this."

His smile drops. "Woman, you're going to start hurting my feelings if you keep saying that. Now keep your weight off your left foot and let me help you into the fucking car."

Sighing, I take my feet off the little footrests on the wheelchair, and I let Nathan help me into his vehicle.

Nathan grabs my seat belt and reaches across me to clip it in. "Watch your arm," he tells me, then he shuts the door.

My eyes close, and as my body gently throbs, I let unconsciousness pull me back under.