Sponge baths it is.
“Sorry,” she whispers, and my eyes fly to hers. She’s not looking at me.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.I’mthe one who failed you. Failed us. And we can talk about all of that later. For now, you just rest and get better.”
“Missed you,” she whispers. “Don’t leave me.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” She’s not pulling away or saying no anymore, and that’s a huge relief, but she might still be delirious. When she’s better, she might tell me to go fuck myself.
And she probably should.
Because I don’t deserve her.
I’ll also never let her go.
Three days later,we’re at the mansion, and my wife is in our bed, where she belongs. She’s still sleeping well over twenty-two hours a day, but she’s still fighting the last of the infection.
I haven’t been able to ask her about anything that’s happened over the past few weeks yet. She honestly hasn’t stayed awake long enough for much of a conversation.
But I’ve spent a lot of time holding her. Kissing her head, her cheeks. Her hands are healing, but the wrist is going to take a while before it’s as good as new again.
“You need to sleep.”
When I glance down, I see my wife looking up at me. She doesn’t look afraid, but she also isn’t looking at me with love.
Not likebefore.
“You’re so tired, Julian. I’m fine. Lie down.”
I shake my head, but she reaches for my hand with her injured one and holds onto my pointer finger.
“Get in this bed, Julian.”
Fuck, I love it when she gets bossy.
Finally, I strip down to my boxer briefs and slide between the sheets with her, but I’m afraid to pull her into my arms.
“I don’t know what to do,” I admit with a whisper. “I don’t know what you want.”
“I’m going to yell at you when I’m better,” she replies, making me smile, but she doesn’t smile back. “But right now, I need my husband. Just be my husband, and we’ll figure the rest out later.”
Gently, I gather my wife into my arms and cradle her close, pressing my lips to her hair. I was able to put her in a bath this morning and wash her hair, getting her the rest of the way clean, and I think it helped her feel better.
“I have so much to say to you,” I whisper in her ear. “Are you awake enough to talk?”
“Yeah.”
“I need you to know how fucking sorry I am for everything that’s happened.”
She sighs and nuzzles her sweet nose against my chest. I should feel relieved that she’s with me, but I’m still on edge.
There’s so much to resolve between us. So much to talk over.
“Jesus, I feel horrible.”
“You should.” She shrugs when I blink down at her. “But that’s for another day. When I’m better, you can just take me back to the m-motel.”
Her voice quivers, and I roll her onto her back so I can push the hair from her face and kiss her forehead.
