Xander cups my face. “You need to listen to me. Nothing is going on with Billie and me. I don’t love her. I did not kiss her. She was drunk and about to fall. I did not know she would be in the coffee shop. I have zero feelings for her. I only love you.”
I scan his eyes, back and forth, so quickly I get dizzy.
“You’re on a lot of medication right now. We will talk about this later. All you need to know is that I only love you.” He brushes his lips against mine then takes the glass of water and a pill from the table. “Take this, or your pain will get a lot worse.”
I swallow the pill and water.
Maybe it’s because I’m in pain. Perhaps it’s because I can’t think straight. Whatever the reason, I let the thought of Billie fall out of my mind.
“Where do you hurt?”
Where do I hurt?
“My head...my wrist...” I glance down to see my wrist wrapped up in a brown bandage. I turn toward Xander, a little too fast and my head spins.
“Move slowly,” he tells me.
I study the bandage. “Did I break my wrist?”
“It’s only sprained. Everything is okay.” His voice is soft, and he brushes my hair off my face and kisses my forehead.
“Work. I have to call work.”
“Shh. They already know. Don’t worry. Just rest.” He pulls me into his arms, and I rest against him, drifting in and out of sleep. Every time I wake up, Xander is there, giving me medication, trying to get me to eat or drink, and holding me.
A few days of fogginess pass, and I wake up. The sun is beating in my window. Xander is sleeping beside me.
He looks peaceful, and I wonder how much sleep he’s had and what day it is. I ease free of his arm and sit up on the side of the bed. My phone tells me it’s Wednesday and past noon.
Has he been here since Sunday?
I stand slowly, walk into the bathroom, and turn on the shower. A faint memory of Xander combing my hair flashes through my mind.
I try to remember where it came from, but I can’t.
While the water is warming up, I brush my teeth, remove the wrap on my wrist then undress. I step into theshower and cry out as the water hits my back. I step forward, out of the way of the water.
Why did that hurt so badly?
“Charlotte, you okay?” Xander’s voice rings through the shower.
I turn behind me, and his face pops around the glass door.
“Why does the spray hurt my skin?”
“Your back is bruised from when you hit the ground.” He strips and steps into the shower.
I’m confused. He pulls me into him. “Come here, sweetheart. Let me help you.”
He grabs the sprayer and wets my hair.
Déjå vu hits me. “Have we done this before?”
He squeezed shampoo into his palm. “Yes, when you first got home from the hospital.”
When I first got home? On Sunday?
“I haven’t showered since Sunday?” I ask, horrified.
