I looked at the nurse. “I want Lincoln to stay,” I rasped, my fingers curling around his.
He didn’t hesitate, eyes flicking between me and the nurse. “I’m not leaving,” he said, inching closer.
I saw the pronounced smirk on Carmen’s lips through the corner of my eye, the redness around her eyelids had faded. She kissed my cheek and proceeded to head out.
Silas left his card in my hand. “I’ll be in touch with a formal offer.”
My mind was already swirling with numbers, outweighing the safety of benefits against autonomy. The nurse raised a brow, simply adjusting the mask over my face and getting the nebulizer ready.
Lincoln’s hand trailed up my arm until his palm found my shoulder. His warmth seeped into my skin under the gown. I let myself sink back into the mist, heart still thudding but steadied by his presence.
“Do you think I should take it?”
Lincoln smirked, his dimples appearing as he moved back to the chair to give more space for the nurse to maneuver.
“I told you I have choices for you, babe.” His eyes flicked to the manila envelope still on the bed. “Let’s just get you home, everything but your health can wait.”
And I believed him.
24
Lincoln
Carmen stopped by the hospital to give us a ride to the house after Nina’s discharge. I waited for Nina to dig out the keys from her precious tote that Carmen had brought back for her. I leaned against the wall while she unlocked the door, then stepped in first as though it’d always been hers. Each of her movements betrayed familiarity with the house. It was exactly what’d been missing when it’d been me coming out of the hospital.
Something loosened inside me. Seeing her take her shoes off and put her bag down, made my chest flood with warmth. She didn’t even realize her claiming my home as hers healed parts of me.
She left the door open, but I didn’t follow. I stood in the threshold, admiring her. Her hair curtained her face when she bent to set down the hospital folder. It wasn’t until she noticed I hadn’t come in that she circled back, brows pulling together.
“What are you doing out here?” she asked, her brown eyes glowing copper in the dim lighting.
“I’m making sure you’re okay.” I exhaled, shoving my hands in my pockets. “And I don’t want to intrude.”
“Lincoln, this is your home. I’m just?—”
“If you say anything about moving out after this giant fucking scare, I swear I will lose it, Nina. Just don’t.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “I’ve been taking care of myself my whole life. I don’t need you to sweep in and rescue me.”
“You don’t need rescuing,” I said, hovering over the threshold. “But you could use help. And I’m giving, like it or not.”
Her discharge papers were clear. She needed rest, meds, and someone to watch her every breath for the next few days. The inhalers and steroids would do their job, and I’d need to figure out how to make sure she didn’t lift a finger while I lived in her old apartment half a city away from her.
“Lincoln.” Her voice softened, and when I looked up, she was holding out her hand. “Come in.”
I’d held her hand before, but this time, I wondered if maybe there was something I could salvage from the wreckage I’d made of us.
I shut the door behind me, the latch clicking drawing a line between the chaos outside the world and the explanations I owed her. Nina held my hand while sinking into the couch, leaving me the corner closest to the window. A remnant of the domesticity we’d shared back when I couldn’t remember how I’d failed her.
“Do you want tea? Coffee? Your inhaler?” I asked, trying to delay a conversation I didn’t know how to have.
“Sit,” she murmured, patting the couch.
I toed my shoes off, letting the rush of her request settle for a beat. Then I breathed in and sat. Close, but not too close. Enough to catch the tired determination in her eyes.
She pulled her hand away from mine, resting it between us, fingers curling and uncurling. “You said you had choices for me.”
“I do,” I said, leaning forward, forearms braced on my knees. “And explanations.”
