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The Ansons took their leave and Sofia tried not to watch the door for Christopher’s familiar form. He would not come. As the examination continued interminably, Sofia closed her eyes, the sight of the vacant doorway nearly as painful as the doctor’s probing.

“The bullet avoided the distal end of your humerus. I can feel it near the surface, but I’m sorry to say its removal will be painful work regardless. With any luck, you’ll lose consciousness quickly. Large as you are, Mr Lioni, we will need help. Sofia, you’ll want to drink every bit of this.” He handed her a glass, and she gave the contents an experimental sniff, wrinkling her nose before she tossed the liquid back. Oliver was already standing to fetch help.

It won’t be Christopher, you know that. It would be idiotic to be disappointed. He would not come. But still, the sight of Jeremy, with his tense smile and worried eyes, made her next breath feel nearly impossible.

Jeremy’s smile dimmed when he took in her unshed tears. “It’s all right, Sofia. I’ll take good care of you.” Despite his thick muscles and broad shoulders, Jeremy looked every bit the unsure twenty-year-old boy he was.

“I’m sure you will do splendidly. Thank you.”

Pride bloomed on Jeremy’s face.

As the doctor retrieved equipment from his bag, Sofia’s head began to swim and her muscles felt liquid and tingly despite her cresting anxiety. Oliver and the doctor re-situated her limbs, which felt oddly detached from the rest of her body, before Dr Higgins poured what smelled like gin over her shoulder. Sofia turned her head to muffle a cry of pain against her pillow. With the first slice of Dr Higgins’s scalpel a few minutes later, Sofia had no hope of withholding the sounds. She cried out and writhed against the indescribable sting.

“I know it’s terrible, but you must remain still or I’ll do more damage in the removal.” Another cut. Then another. Deep sobs wracked her body.

The door burst in on its hinges then and Christopher was there, grim and determined, tearing through the space that separated them. He dropped to his haunches and, with a nod of permission from Dr Higgins, slid one arm beneath her neck and gently turned her face to him with the other. His hand was warm and solid and blessedly present against her cheek. Centimetres from her face, his wide-eyed gaze caught and held hers.

The pain came again and Sofia squeezed her eyes closed, struggling to narrow her focus to the sensation of Christopher's even breaths against her throat, the steady strength of his hand as it smoothed over her cheek. Tears slid through the cracks of her tightly closed lids, but she remained still.

“That’s so good, love. You’re doing so well.” Christopher’s soft words tore a whimper from her chest. She drew them inside and clung to each one.

“So brave, my Sofia. So strong. Just a little more. I’m here. Forget about everything else.”

Pressure like she had never imagined descended upon her, and she jerked to escape the pain.

“Only me, Sofia. Open your eyes and look at me. Open them, love.”

Sofia could hear the tears in his voice, the distress and the grief. She would remember the hitched tremor of his breathing for the rest of her life and didn’t want to sear the matching picture into her mind. She pulled away from the doctor’s knife again and Christoper let out an agonised sound. “Please, my love. Open.”

When she did, it was every bit as heartbreaking as her imagination had conjured. Christopher was the very picture of suffering. Mouth parted, eyes frantic, cheeks saturated with tears.

“Good, that’s so good, sweetheart. Stay with me. Think of something else. Think of us sprawled out on a picnic blanket surrounded by pear trees in full bloom. The sun warming your skin and my arms around you, contentment coaxing your eyelids to fall heavy.” Another tear plummeted down his cheek, and she wanted to brush it away. “Imagine drifting off into sleep with the breeze playing across your skin because you know you are safe with me. Always safe.”

Gradually, he began to sound further away, and she tried to follow the precious rumble of his voice, to hold on to it in case she would never hear it again.

“I’ve got it. Just about finished,” Dr Higgins said.

Sofia’s muscles fell slack as the piercing pain receded, and with it, Christopher. She scrambled to take hold of his hand as he stood, but her arm would not listen. Don’t leave! But all that emerged was a strangled sob. She could feel the ghost of his handprint on her cheek. Feel his kiss upon her forehead. Hear every step as he walked away. And then everything went blessedly dark.

Twenty-Six

Christopher couldn’t help the tenderness with which he cleared her curls from her forehead and pressed his lips against the soft skin he’d uncovered. It would be the last time for such tenderness, so he would allow himself this one final, idiotic indulgence. She would be asleep soon and he would not be there when she woke. He wasn’t sure where he would go, but he could not remain here in this house with her. An extended vacation to see his sister, perhaps? He needed time away to forgive Gabriel once he knew Sofia would be well. Christopher ran his finger along the arm of her shirt … his shirt. The warmth of her skin bled through the thin linen.

Then he forced himself to pull his hands away and turned to flee before he gave into the temptation to crawl into bed beside her like the lovesick fool he was.

Jeremy stepped into his path, arms folded across his chest. Menacing. “So that’s it then? You’re just going to walk away and leave her half dead in her bed.”

“She’s not half dead. Doctor Higgins retrieved the bullet. She’ll be fine, and it doesn’t seem like she lacks friends to attend to her.” Jealousy gurgled hot in his chest at the thought of the other men who would gladly take his place.

“You did your part, I suppose. Whispering all those sweet promises into her ear so you wouldn’t have to feel guilty if she bled out while the doctor worked. What a fantastic man you are.”

“Get out of my way, Jeremy,” he snarled through clenched teeth.

“Don’t worry. I’ll stay and console her. Hold her hand and feed her broth when she wakes up.”

Christopher was on him in an instant, the pain of his swift jab to Jeremy’s jaw reverberating up his arm. Jeremy didn’t fight back and Christopher quickly came to his senses, stalking away before he could seek further relief from the seething anger in his chest.

Every step away from Sofia excised a slice of Christopher’s soul, until he felt as if an inch further down the hallway would leave him empty altogether. He stopped, pressing his palms to the wall, and his head fell forward, heavy with too many feelings.