But then I feel the pain in my leg and roll back onto my back to stare at the ceiling. That was a lifetime ago, I remind myself. Any opportunity for more has passed.
“Hudson told me you lost your leg.” The humor has left her voice. “I’m sorry.”
In the silence that follows, there’s the chatter of her boy and the sound of a toy car rolling over linoleum.
Not wanting to talk about my leg, I say, “He seems like a happy kid.”
She takes a sip of coffee, and the smell of it makes my mouth water.
“He is,” she says quietly.
“You must have moved on pretty quickly.” It comes out bitter. But I can’t help myself. I thought we had a connection that weekend, but to her, it was exactly what she said it would be: a one-off thing. No strings.
She doesn’t say anything, and I know I’m being mean, but I can’t stop. “Father not around?”
She takes another sip of coffee, and damn, I want to sit up and have a drink, but I made a show of staying horizontal, and I’m not backing down now. Besides, this conversation is easier when I can’t look at her.
“No.” Her voice is strange, and without looking at her, I can’t see what’s going on. If I hadn’t just taken some more painkillers, I might be able to figure out what her tone means, but my brain is sluggish, which is how I like it these days.
“I didn’t know you were Hudson’s sister when we…”
“I know,” she says softly. “We didn’t use names. I didn’t know who you were either.”
“Does he know?”
She gives a throaty chuckle. “Oh no. He has no idea. But he’s not stupid. He’ll figure it out.”
I frown. “He doesn’t need to know that we fucked once.”
She sucks in her breath, and I curse myself for using the harsh word. Fucking doesn’t come close to describing what we did that weekend. But if Paige is looking for a repeat performance, she needs to know it’s not an option. I’m no good to anyone now, least of all a woman like Paige.
“Is that all it was to you?” Her voice is quiet.
I keep my focus on the ceiling. “Yup.”
There’s silence as the lie settles around us. For three years, I longed to run into “Rose.” I imagined what I would say and how we would spend longer than a weekend together. We’d explore the connection and see how far it would take us.
But not like this. Not bedridden and jacked up on painkillers. She deserves better than this. What happened in the past can stay in the past. There’s no point in longing for what might have been.
She moves away from the bed, and I hear the tap run as she washes her cup in the sink.
“We go, Mommy?” the kid asks.
“Yeah.”
I hear footsteps marching back to the bed, and then she looms over me so I can’t avoid her.
“You’re not ready to talk, and that’s fine. You’ve got a lot going on. You can be pissy at me and feel sorry for yourself, but don’t let Joel down. That dude’s done a hell of a lot for guys just like you. You lost a leg. Stop crying about it and get your ass out of bed.
“I didn’t know you were Hudson’s friend when we met, but I don’t recognize you as the Ryan my brother told me about when he came out of BUD/s. He said you were tenacious and determined and tough as fuck. So start acting like it.”
She’s standing over me, fierce as hell, eyes blazing. I should be pissed, but all I can think is how beautiful she looks when she’s angry.
“Are you always this bossy?”
“Are you always this grumpy?”
She glares at me, and in the silence, a little voice says, “Fuck.”
