"I love you," I say, the words slipping out before I can overthink them. "I know it's fast, maybe crazy given everything, but I do. I love you, Sandra."
Her eyes widen, glisten with unshed tears. "I love you too," she whispers, leaning forward to press her forehead gently against mine. "Which is why we're going to fix this. Together."
The nurse arrives with more pain medication, interrupting the moment. As the drugs enter my system, a pleasant numbness begins to spread, dulling the sharp edges of pain. My thoughts grow fuzzy around the edges, but one thing remains crystal clear—Sandra is still here, still holding my hand, still looking at me like I'm worth fighting for.
"I think I might have an idea," I mumble as sleep begins to pull at me. "About Vanessa."
"Tell me tomorrow," Sandra says softly, brushing hair back from my forehead. "Rest now."
As I drift into drug-induced sleep, I feel her lips press against my temple, her voice a whisper against my skin. "I'm not going anywhere, Diesel. We'll face her together."
With Sandra by my side, maybe I can finally close the door on my past for good. And if not—if Vanessa wants a fight—she'll find out I'm not the same man who ran from Vancouver five years ago.
I have something worth fighting for now. Something worth staying for.
And I'm not giving it up without one hell of a battle.
CHAPTER TEN
SANDRA
"Easy," I murmur, supporting Diesel's weight as he slowly makes his way up the steps to his cabin. "No rush."
Three days in the hospital, and he's already pushing himself too hard. Typical. The man doesn't know how to take it easy, even with broken ribs and a body mottled with bruises in various shades of purple and yellow.
"I'm fine," he grumbles, but the tightness around his eyes betrays the pain each step causes. "Don't need to be babied."
"It's not babying. It's basic medical care," I counter, adjusting my grip on his waist. "Which you'd know if you actually listened to Dr. Mawry instead of nodding while mentally planning your escape."
That gets me a reluctant smile. "Caught that, did you?"
"I'm getting pretty good at reading you." We finally reach the door, and I fumble with the keys. "Though I'm still working on the 'stubborn as a mule' aspect of your personality."
Inside, the cabin is cold and dark. I help Diesel to the couch before turning on lights and cranking up the thermostat. Theplace has been empty since the night of the accident, and winter has seeped into the walls.
"I'll get a fire started," I say, moving to the woodstove. "You need to take your meds."
"Later," he argues. "Need to keep my head clear."
I turn, hands on hips, fixing him with my best no-nonsense stare. "Take. Your. Meds. Now."
He blinks, clearly not used to being ordered around in his own home. "Yes, ma'am."
"That's more like it." I dig through the pharmacy bag, counting out the correct dosages. "Okay, prove to me you were paying attention when it counted. Water or coffee?"
"Coffee."
"Water it is." I smile sweetly at his scowl, filling a glass from the tap. "Doctor's orders. No caffeine with the pain meds."
Diesel swallows the pills with obvious reluctance, wincing as he leans back against the cushions. The bruise along his jaw has darkened, and the stitches at his temple stand out starkly against his pale skin. My chest tightens seeing him like this—strong, capable Diesel reduced to careful movements and pain-filled eyes.
"Stop looking at me like I'm dying," he mutters, catching my worried gaze. "I've had worse."
"That's not as reassuring as you think it is." I sit beside him, careful not to jostle the couch. "And you're right, you're not dying. Because I'm not going to let that happen."
His hand finds mine, fingers interlacing. "You've been amazing, you know that? Most women would have run for the hills by now."
"I'm not most women." I lean over to press a gentle kiss to his uninjured cheek. "And I meant what I said at the hospital. I love you. That doesn't disappear just because things get complicated."
