I loved him.
I just didn’t like him.
Strange how one could feel those two conflicting emotions, but love was odd like that.
The moment those thoughts finished, awe flickered through me. I was surprised that after everything I’d gone through, I could still…I could still think aboutnormalthings—stuff that was important but also wasn’t compared to being tortured and starved. That I could think about the night we’d spent together, the things he’d done to me, and what I’d done to him, and feel my insides warm. That felt beautifullynormalbecause I…
I honestly never expected to see him again. I hadn’t expected to see sunlight either or breathe in fresh air. In the end, I hadn’t thought I’d survive.
That was a lot to process.
As I lay there, watching the steady rise and fall of Caden’s chest, I realized that it was also a lot to process the fact that there were huge gaps in time where I couldn’t remember what had happened while Aric held me, even though I could still feel the…the fear and the hours of nothing but pain. I remembered what he did to me with the dagger I’d killed him with, and I recalled his fists, but a lot was missing that still carried feelings of panic and humiliation.
I sighed, glancing around the room. I wasn’t in the infirmary but one of the spacious hotel rooms. I had no idea how I had gotten up here.
Caden stirred, his thick lashes lifting. His gaze found mine. Slowly, he lowered his hand and straightened. He didn’t speak, not for several long moments, and then he said, “How long have you been awake?”
“Not—” I cleared my throat, working on getting the painful hoarseness out. “Not very…long.”
“So, in other words, you haven’t been watching me sleep for that long?”
“I wasn’t watching.” My cheeks heated at the blatant lie.
“Uh-huh.” A small grin played at his lips as he pulled his feet off the foot of the bed and placed them on the floor, leaning forward. “How do you feel?”
I thought about the way he’d held me in the car, trying to calm me as I screamed. “A lot better.”
“You look better.”
“I bet I look a mess.”
“No,” he said softly. “You look beautiful.”
I rolled my eyes—well, one eye. “I don’t need…a mirror to know that’s not remotely true.”
“You don’t need a mirror at all.”
Having no idea how to respond to that, though liking the tiny flutter in my chest, I decided it was time to change the subject. “How long have I been out of it?”
“Today is Thursday. We brought you in Monday night. So, about two days,” he said. “You’ve woken up a couple of times.”
Two days? God. “I don’t remember that—the waking up.”
“The healer has kept you on some pretty good pain medication. You were a little…out of it, but able to walk to the bathroom.”
Well, that explained why it didn’t feel like my bladder was about to burst. Wait. “Did you help me to the…bathroom?”
Seriously, if he confirmed it, God hating me would be official.
“No.” He shook his head. “Ivy and Faye helped. They also changed the bandages on your arm and your legs.”
“My legs?” The corners of my lips turned down, tugging at the flesh of my lower lip in a way that told me it was still healing.
“There were some cuts there that were deeper but did not require stitches.” He tucked a strand of hair back from his face.
“Oh.” I shifted my gaze to my hands, finally looking at them. Both bore signs of fading bruises. I blinked slowly. “You…you’ve seen what it…what it all looks like?”
Caden seemed to know what I was asking because he tipped forward even farther. “I’ve seen most of it, Brighton. I’ve seen enough.”
