I ignored the way that word sent a strange flutter through me and pushed to my feet. I started toward the door, but his voice stopped me.
“Where are you going?”
I glanced at him from over my shoulder. His arm was still covering his eyes. “I’m going to get you some medicine and water.”
His lips pursed. “There’s Tylenol in the drawer of the nightstand. There’s a cup in the bathroom by the sink.”
I tilted my head, but didn’t question him on it.
Moving to the nightstand, I opened the drawer and froze.
There was a bottle of medicine in the drawer, but that wasn’t what caught my attention.
It was the picture.
The edges were slightly crumpled, like it had often been handled. I recognized Roman immediately. His dark hair was shorter than it was now, his skin smoother. He was holding the hand of a woman in a hospital bed. She was beautiful with thick, curly hair and bright-green eyes. On her chest was a tiny, pink baby.
The woman’s eyes were on the baby—but Roman’s were on her.
My stomach clenched.
It was Hailey’s mother. I recognized her from another picture in Hailey’s room, but Roman wasn’t in that one. It was the way he was looking at the woman, with utter love and devotion, that captured all my focus. I’d never seen so much emotion on his face.
It was obvious that he had loved her fiercely.
I glanced back at Roman. I was so sad for him, but there was also another feeling stirring. One that was darker and stung like the venom of a wasp.
It seemed a lot like jealousy.
But there was nothing to be jealous of. I had no claim on Roman or Hailey. I was supposed to be keeping my distance and protecting my heart.
I snatched up the bottle of medicine and snapped the drawer closed.
I let out a long breath and headed into the en suite bathroom. I filled the glass on the vanity, trying to push thoughts of the picture out of my mind. It had absolutely nothing to do with me.
When I stepped back into the bedroom, a pair of slate-blue eyes halted me.
He hadn’t moved, but I couldn’t read him, not when he was feverish and unpredictable.
He tracked me as I forced myself to move. Slowly, I made my way back to the side of his bed.
I held out the pills and the water. “Here you go.”
He propped himself up on one elbow. His face was paler now that the flush had retreated.
I stepped closer than I meant to, near enough to feel the heat of his skin.
He swallowed the pills, then drained half the glass before handing it back to me. His fingers brushed mine, and I pulled away too quickly, almost dropping the glass. He caught it and set it on the nightstand.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
His gaze never left my face as silence settled between us.
I hovered awkwardly, not sure what to do with my hands, my body, or the way my heart was thrashing in its cage.
“Can I ask you a question?” he eventually said.
My brows knit together. Roman didn’t ask many questions. “One.” I nodded. “Then you need to sleep. You’ll never get well if you don’t rest.”
