"I'll stay here, of course."
"You don't have any clothes, and you haven't eaten."
Mom sniffled. "That doesn't matter. You can bring me something in the morning, can't you?"
Biting back a sigh, I said, "Wouldn't it be easier if you came home with me for half an hour and then came back?"
But Mom shook her head. "I won't leave him. He needs me."
I glanced down at my sleeping father. I didn't know what it felt like to be married, did I? Despite sensing that my mother was using me, I couldn't really judge her for wanting to stay.
"Okay. I'll be back in the morning."
I'd called Mrs. Johansen hours ago to take the following day off, so there was nothing left to do but go home.
The hallways were quiet as I headed out. Other than a few nurses behind the desks, there was no one milling about.
Except for Burke Gallagher.
Because fuck my life, right?
When the elevator door opened, I moved forward to get on, thinking no one else was around, and plowed straight into Burke's chest.
"I'm so sorry!" Hastily, I stumbled back, humiliated and unable to even look at him.
He did smell the same, only he'd gained a feral edge, a predatory quality that screamed at me to keep away.
Burke didn't move out of the doorway, merely kept his hand on the automatic door so it couldn't close. Tears of frustration formed in my eyes at the sound of the mechanism grinding as it tried to do its job. Why wouldn't he just leave, letting me die of mortification in peace?
"Are you going somewhere?"
The smooth quality of his voice was like a finger trailing down my spine, and I shivered.
"Home," I mumbled.
"Your father's okay?"
Nodding, I studied the white cap on my shoes.
"That's good to hear."
When he still refused to move, I considered turning around and finding the stairwell.
"Do you need a ride?"
All the air left my lungs. What would happen if I accepted the ride? Could I let him bundle me into his warm limousine filled with his scent and spend five minutes enclosed with him? Or, more likely, he'd stick me with his driver and I wouldn't spend five seconds with him.
I shook my head.
"I know you speak. I've heard it."
Finally, I lifted my head. Through trembling lips, I said, "I have a car."
"But you've had a long day. Can't I help to make it just a little easier?"
"No, thank you."
My corneas burned with unshed tears. I was a mess, and he was perfect. Why did he have to acknowledge me today of all days, when I was an utter wreck?
