“You’re in pain,” he says quietly.
“I am,” I admit. “But I’m not taking anything stronger. I told you that.”
His nostrils flare. “You should.”
“No,” I say firmly. “I won’t be unconscious a second longer than necessary. I need to be alert. Coherent.”
“And stubborn,” he mutters.
I smile faintly. “That too.”
I reach for his hand and squeeze it. “Go. Please. Bring me McDonald’s. Don’t make me endure this hospital food again.”
His phone dings, breaking me off.
His gaze drops to the screen. He reads it, then looks back at me, one corner of his mouth lifting.
“I already have your McDonald’s downstairs,” he says.
I break into a full blown smile.
“You didn’t.”
“Of course I did.”
He clicks his tongue. “The fuckers brought it to the front of the hospital. They won’t come up to deliver it to the room,” he grunts. “I’ll give them a one star review. Maybe punch the guy after I get your food.”
I roll my eyes.
“Go,” I say, impatient.
He still hesitates. I can see it all over him. He doesn’t want to leave my side, not even for a second.
Then my stomach betrays me with a loud growl.
And that decides it.
He stands from the chair, but not before lifting my hand and pressing a kiss to my knuckles, then another to my forehead.
“I’ll be just a few minutes,” he says. “Press the nurse button if you need anything.” He looks at me pointedly.
I smile and nod.
He closes the door behind him.
I settle back against the pillows, already anticipating the food, The Addams Family playing quietly on the television.
Everything hurts like hell, but I am alive.
I don’t fight Milo anymore, though I am still not convinced we can make it.
I am too tainted, too ruined, not meant to be loved. I carry too much baggage, yet he makes me feel beautiful, whole, dare I say it… loved.
He feels safe… like home, and that frightens me more than the attacks ever did.
But everything comes in its time.
For now, I need to get better, and then I need to find the fucker who did this and erase him from the earth.
