“C’mon, let’s get you downstairs and on the lounge. Chris Hemsworth is calling your name,” Danny says, wrapping his arm around me.
I manage to sneak my cell into my pajama pocket, so I’ll know whenhecalls.
I know it’s ridiculous.
Stupid.
Beyond logic.
But I need it.
I need to knowhestill cares enough to call.
I won’t answer, but it’s enough of a distraction that it helps me to put one step in front of the other right now.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
It’s been three weeks, two days, and eighteen hours since I last sawhim.
I had the IV in my arm for another day after the shower with Joseph, and it was amazing how much that helped.
Danny’s brother, Mark, came to check on me. He assessed my mental health and prescribed an antidepressant. I wasn’t overly keen on the idea, but he wants me off the anxiety medication and on something that will help long-term. I guess you can’t argue with doctor logic.
I’ve woken up and already know it will be a bad day. I am still in bed and feelinghislossmore today than I have for a while. My thoughts drift tohim,and before I can stop myself, I reach for my phone on the nightstand, opening the photo gallery.
The first picture that appears is us at the Eiffel Tower—smiling, happy, whole.
Swallowing hard, I reach beneath my pillow, my fingers finding the familiar chain of my necklace. I trace the inscription absently, my chest tightening with every second that passes. I don’t know why I’m doing this to myself, but I keep scrolling, lost in the past.
Then I see a photo of Anna.
A tear slips down my cheek. I shake my head, swiping it away before setting my phone aside, forcing myself to let go.
I’m rolling over and closing my eyes to sleep when the vibration starts. I squeeze my eyes shut until it stops. My breathing increases, and I open my eyes, just waiting for the next call. It comes soon after, and I turn my head to watch the phone dancing around on the nightstand.
The urge to answer is becoming more dire.
I swallow hard, and the call stops.
I spin my body to face the nightstand and watch the phone, waiting.
It vibrates again.
And I can’t restrain myself.
I pick it up and swipe to answer the call.
My heart stops when I put the phone to my ear and say nothing, waiting forhimto say something.
“Dee?Shit! Dee. Did you answer?”heasks.
My heart flutters at the sound ofhisvoice.
I can’t speak.
No words come out, only rushed, harsh breaths.
“Dee, baby, are you there? Talk to me, p-please,”hebegs.Hisvoice cracks, and it sounds like he’s crying, which makes my eyes well up.
