“You gonna miss me?”
“Aye, of course I will! You’re the only one who helps me with my crosswords.” He chuckles. “Who’s this giant you brought with ya?” Archie asks, setting his crossword down in his lap to pin his full attention on Elijah.
Jenna drags a chair over for Elijah, and he thanks her, turning his gaze to Archie. He reaches out to shake his hand, but for such a frail old man, he’s still got some strength to him. He pulls Elijah into his body for an awkward hug, which is returned with the same force, laughter shaking both their bodies.
Elijah pulls away and plops down beside me, his legs extended and crossed at the ankles in an absurdly attractive yet nonchalant way that has my blood thickening to molten honey.
He catches me staring and does the chivalrous thing, ignoring me as I search the bleakness of this room for an ounce of joy, in the form of his thick thighs and bulging muscles.
Who even am I right now?
“I’m Elijah, Adhira’s flatmate. It’s nice to finally meet the famous Archibald the Great.” I’ve most certainly never called him anything but Archie; however, that gets a chuckle of approval from the old man, so I don't bother saying as much.
“Ach, I think ye’ve got yer words in a wee muddle there, lad. The term is ‘infamous,’” he says, stressing the word with a conspiratorial wink.
Their man-flirting is interrupted when Jenna returns to my side, setting the bags of medication mixed with saline on the small white table beside me. She goes through all of her normal pre-chemo questions, ensuring my vitals are stable and double-checking yesterday's lab work before we get started.
She pulls her gloves on, cleans my port, and starts the line, same as always, starting off slow to gauge my reaction to the treatment. When she heads back to her desk, Elijah reaches beside him, picking up the lunchbox he packed with my gloves, socks, and cap.
I reach for them, my belly twisting with anxious anticipation. Ihatethis part.
He shakes his head, setting the bag on his stool. “Which do you hate the most?” The words are so soft-spoken that both Archie and the nosey old lady to my right lean in to hear him. “Eyes on me, Adhira.”
I straighten, my eyes locking on him at the quiet command. “The cap,” I whisper, and he nods his understanding, sifting through the lunch bag to retrieve the socks. This mandrops to his kneesbefore me, and I swear I hear at least three of these old biddies gasp audibly. Hell, I might’ve even been one of them.
Elijah doesn’t seem to notice, his full attention trained on me as he unties my shoes and removes my socks. I lean over, relieved to find that my toe cracks are lint-free, and wind up tugging on my line, but Elijah’s reflexes are fast. He reaches out to steady it and returns to his task.
He glances up, dark-blond brows pinched as ifheis in pain. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, sliding the first cold sock on. It burns, and I wince, Elijah’s spine growing rigid as he sucks in a breath. I usually have Archie’s blabbering mouth and crosswords to distract me when I put them on, but I don’t dare look to that gossip for aid. He’s gone to the world of Elijah’s charm, and I can’t say I blame him.
The room remains silent as Elijah finishes getting my socks on, then moves to my hands, which he pays extra special attention to. He holds them for a beat, lids shut as if in prayer. Drawing in a breath, he presses the most fragile of kisses to each of my knuckles, and my heart palpitates, vision blurring at the edges.
He ensures each finger is exactly where it needs to be inside the gloves to give me the best chance at preventing nerve damage, and they’ve worked pretty well so far.
Nerves dance in my belly as he picks up the cold cap, and only then do I release the breath I’ve been holding. I pre-emptively stick my tongue to the roof of my mouth, cringing at what I know is coming. Elijah sets the cap beside me, bracketing my legs with his as best he can with me seated in this bulky exam chair.
“Can I touch you?” he asks, light-green eyes crinkling at the edges as he searches mine.
Hands and feet are one thing; my face is another entirely.
He knows this and respects it. Respectsme.
I nod shakily. He tucks fallen pieces of my hair behind my ears, the warm brush of his skin against mine a comfort rather than the unfamiliar, overstimulating sensation it would be from anyone else. He smooths my hair back, dipping his chin to press a soft, chaste kiss an inch from my tragus. My body flames, joints turning to gelatine beneath the firm press of his palm at the back of my skull. His lips brush over the shell of my ear, but it’s his tender words that are a shot to my heart.
“I’m in awe of your strength, Adhira. And I amsogoddamn proud of you,” he whispers, pulling away just in time to see the tears welling in my eyes, matching his own.
He gives me a shaky smile, and I latch onto it as he settles the cap on my head and returns to his seat.
All of the air rushes back into the room at once, the silence broken by Archie’s pen clattering to the linoleum floor.
I suck in a much-needed breath, bristling under the gazes of all the prying eyes; the chill working down my spine isn’t just from the cold cap. “Thank you,” I mouth to Elijah.
He ducks his chin, cheeks turning a light shade of pink, and thanks to him, I find myself dreading the next few hours a little less.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO
Just as I’d expected,Adhira sits through what I’m choosing to believe is her final round of chemo with all the grace of a royal and the courage of a warrior. As much as I adore her smart mouth and quick-witted barbs, it’s this particular moment of strength that ensnares me most.
