“Text me how he is.”
I smiled. “Okay. Thanks again.”
“You’re most welcome.”
For the first time, I saw a resemblance between her and Sebastian, a trace of the charisma he exuded everywhere. As a lawyer in what was still very much a man’s world, Janine probably kept a tight lid on hers.
I closed the door behind her, then filled Robin’s bowl with water and opened a can of moist cat food. I held my breath, since the stuff smelled disgusting, but Robin looked ecstatic as he lapped it up. I left him to it, going to put on makeup and get dressed.
I was surprised by how many clothes I had in Sebastian’s apartment. It was as if I lived here already. I wondered how things would work if we got married. Where would we live? Did Sebastian want children? We’d never discussed that. How could we be thinking about marriage?
I realized I was freaking out when I caught myself drowning my fingertips in foundation.
“Shit.”
I wiped off my hands and ordered myself to get a grip. I was getting way ahead of myself. Sebastian might not even remember our discussion—he’d been drugged and concussed atthe time. Besides, I needed time to think too. If we did decide to get married, we’d have to make plans and discuss everything properly. There was no hurry.
Robin wandered in, sides bulging, eyelids droopy. I suspected he would pass out at any time. After a few minutes of chin scratching, he jumped off my lap, shook himself, and went toward the window, plopping down in a slice of sunlight.
I pulled on jeans and a stylish blue top withHappy Soulsewn on the front in sparkly thread. I wanted to look beautiful and optimistic for Sebastian. I swiped extra blusher onto my pale cheeks, brushed my fingers through my hair, and grabbed my phone and keys. My purse was still at Ben’s. I was in awe of Janine’s gesture.
As I drove to the hospital, I wondered what I could take to Sebastian. I didn’t know what he could eat after surgery, so I didn’t dare buy food. I stopped for coffee and a donut for myself, and settled on a bouquet of assorted flowers for him.
I’d never bought a man flowers before, but it seemed right, and I didn’t feel silly as I walked into the ICU with the large bouquet.
Chapter Thirty-One
Sebastian
The morning had been a parade of visitors, which would have been great if I weren’t so damn exhausted. Miles and two of the other guys from work had shown up around nine with a box of donuts from that place on Amsterdam—the good ones, not the chain crap.
“Brought you the real deal, man,” Miles had said, setting the box on the rolling tray table. “None of that hospital cafeteria stuff.”
I’d tried to laugh, but my ribs had other ideas. “Thanks, but I can’t eat them yet. Doctor’s orders.”
“We’ll eat them for you then,” one of the others said, already reaching for a glazed.
“You’re all heart,” I muttered.
They’d stayed for about twenty minutes, awkwardly hovering around my bed, cracking nervous jokes about whether I’d debugged my bike before riding it. I appreciated them coming, but I could tell the hospital setting made them uncomfortable. Programmers weren’t great with the messy reality of physical trauma. Give them a code crash and they were fine. Give them a friend with tubes coming out of his arms, and they didn’t know where to look.
Before they left, Miles had leaned in. “So, what’s the word for next year, Sebastian? Please tell me it’s not ‘challenging’ again.”
I’d thought about it—really thought about it. Lying in this bed, I’d had plenty of time to consider what the next year should be about. Not challenging. Not ambitious. Not even successful.
“‘Gratitude,’” I’d said finally. “The word for next year is gratitude.”
Miles had blinked at me, surprised. “That’s... actually kind of perfect, man. Get well soon, yeah?”
After they left, I’d dozed for a bit, happy to let the painkillers pull me under. When I woke, I was watching something mindless on Nurse Phillips’ daughter’s tablet, trying to keep my mind occupied until visiting hours started again.
Then I saw her walk through the door. My heart lurched the way it always did when Jesse appeared, but this time it was different. This time, I understood what it meant to almost lose everything.
I set down the tablet, unable to stop the smile spreading across my face. She was half-hidden behind an absurdly large bouquet of flowers. Something about the image made my chest ache—not from the broken ribs, but from the sheer love I felt for this woman.
“Hey, handsome.” She peeked at me from behind the flowers, then set the vase on the table at the foot of my bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Better now that you’re here. I missed you like crazy.”
