“It’s all forgotten.” He blinks. “And not just because I’m all doped up.”
I can’t help laughing. “True. You’ve had a head injury.”
He shuts his eyes, but his lips form a smile. He doesn’t let go of my hand. “Anyway, we won.” He blinks. “We did, didn’t we?”
“You did.”
“No thanks to me, but fine.”
I don’t reply. It’s silent for a few seconds, but then Henry looks at me again. “Why did you stop?” I ask, quietly.
He exhales slowly. “I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention.”
“It was about Maeve. Wasn’t it?”
Henry doesn’t speak, but he doesn’t have to. When he finally rolls his eyes and looks up to the ceiling, they’re filled with tears.
I could kid myself that it’s been a tiring day and the drugs are making Henry oversensitive and emotional. But the truth is, every day’s been tiring for a long time now. And that’s OK. Somehow I’m glad that he’s crying and not swallowing it, bottling it up.
I stroke my thumb over the back of his hand as he closes his eyes, and the silent tears roll down his cheeks.
“I couldn’t.” His eyes are red when he opens them. “I was standing there, and all I could think of was how we used to sit in those stands together. When Theo was playing. It was so surreal. And then... no idea, I felt the thud as the guy tackled me, and two seconds later, everything went black.”
My stomach clenches. “I’m glad nothing worse happened,” I say quietly.
Henry nods silently. I can practically feel how tired he is. When he blinks again, it’s like his eyelids weigh a ton.
“Are you in pain?” I whisper. “Do you need anything?”
He shakes his head. “I’m fine.”
“I could stay until they throw me out,” I say.
“Is it wing time?”
“There’s two hours yet.”
Henry smiles. “Oh, right.”
“Try to sleep,” I whisper.
He does shut his eyes. “No little spoon today?”
I have to laugh. “I think your shoulder would have something to say about that.”
Henry doesn’t reply. I sit beside him for a while, quietly watching as his chest rises and slowly falls again.
“Emma?” he whispers, at some point when I’d have sworn he was fast asleep.
“Yes?”
“That night on the roof.” He looks back at me. “I shouldn’t have told you to piss off.”
“Henry, it’s—”
He cuts me off. “I should have said,Thank you for being here...That, and I love you.”
32
