Though I wasn’t sexually assaulted, thank God, I still feel violated. I was beaten up with no recollection of how it happened, no idea of who did it, and my personal belongings were stolen. My new laptop, that I saved for months to buy, finally splurging on it as a Christmas gift to myself, is gone. My phone, with all my photos, my contacts, is in the hands of the men who attacked me.
“Sofia.” Nico frowns again. “You said you’re in pain. Didn’t they give you anything for it?” He glances at the call button beside my bed. “I’ll call a nurse. Have them bring you something.”
His concern is almost my undoing.
I don’t want nice Nico here.
I don’t want the Nico I thought I’d spend my life with.
I want the brusque, scowling Nico who reminds me why I’m much better off without him.
It’s the threat of impending tears that has me snipping, “I’mfine. If I need pain medication, I’ll ask for it myself. I don’t need your help.”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them.
Not because what I said wasn’t true. It is. I can reach the call button. And Icanask for more pain medication.
But I don’t like this snippy, bitter side of myself.
And I don’t like the hurt that flickers across Nico’s face before he hides it.
It shouldn’t matter,that logical voice reminds me silently.He didn’t care about how you felt before. And you don’t owe him anything.
Maybe so. But I know what Nico looks like when his feelings are hurt. I saw that look all the times his parents were too busy to come to his varsity soccer games or when they just handed him money for his birthday instead of actually doing something with him. And though I don’t want to feel bad about hurting his feelings, I do.
“I’m just tired,” I add quietly. “And cranky. Maybe I shouldask for some pain meds after all.”
Nico looks at me, his gaze lingering on my cheeks and jaw before moving away. “Of course you’re tired. It’s late, and you’ve been through a lot. I should have waited to come until tomorrow.”
Those darn tears burn the inside of my nose.
Don’t be nice,I want to plead.Not now. Not when I’m feeling so weak already.
“It’s okay.” I squeeze my eyes shut in hopes of forcing the tears back. “I’ll call the nurse. Then maybe I can get some sleep.”
Nico glances around the room again. “Are the police coming back?”
“I think they said something about checking back tomorrow.”
He scowls. “That’s pretty vague. Do they have any leads? And what about—” He stops.
“What aboutwhat?”
His lips thin. After a pause, he asks, “Is anyone coming to stay with you?”
“Here? At the hospital?”
“Yes, here. And when you get home.”
“No. Why would they?”
A moment later, I realize how pathetic that makes me sound. Like I don’t have anyone who cares enough to be by my side after I was attacked.
It’s not like Brian or my aunt wouldn’t come if I asked. But I won’t. Not when it would mean an expensive plane ticket and hours of travel and I’ll probably be back home by the time they could get here.
As for friends? There isn’t anyone I’d want to come. Which I guessdoesmake me sound kind of pathetic, now that I think about it. But Andie, my closest friend, the one person I’ve stayed in touch with since college, is in Dubai for a year-long contract with her law firm. So I’m definitely not calling her. And everyone else I know in Hoboken fits more in the casual acquaintance category than thecall in the middle of the night to come to the hospitalone.
Nico’s expression grows even grimmer than it already was. “Sofia. You were attacked. As far as I know, the men are still out there. Don’t you think it would be safer if you had someone with you?”
