“You need to eat, Lacie.” Craig held the spoon up to her lips, trying to coax a bit of soup into her. It had been days since she’d had anything solid, surviving on little more than juice and broth. Even that had been an effort; in those few hours when she was awake, she said she felt weak and dizzy; her appetite was non-existent.
“I can’t.”
Maybe he would need to start cutting back on the meds. But every time he did, she started talking about wanting to go home. She wasn’t ready yet. She was still recovering. And he wasn’t willing to let her go.
“You want to get better, don’t you?”
“I’m trying,” she whispered. “I want to go home.”
Damn it. He hated seeing her like this. Each day she seemed a little weaker than the day before. She was supposed to be getting better under his care, not worse. How else was she going to see how good he was for her?
“Come on, Lace. Just a few more.” Dutifully she opened her mouth and allowed him to feed her. She had barely any fight left in her. The fever, while low-grade, was still tenaciously hanging on, sapping her strength. Combined with her injuries and the potent pain killers he was pumping into her, and her inability to eat, it was taking everything out of her.
He’d wanted her compliant, but not like this.
“No more,” she murmured after he’d gotten a few more spoonfuls in. “Please.” She pushed feebly at his arm, and he was alarmed at how weak she was.
“You did good,” he lied encouragingly, wiping gently around her mouth. “Want to go out on the porch for a bit?”
Her eyes brightened a little. “Yes, please. Maybe the fresh air will help.”
“I’m sure it will,” he said. “It’s raining lightly, though. That okay with you?”
She nodded, her eyes half-closed. She liked the rain, said she liked the way it made everything smell so fresh and clean.
“Alright, baby. Wait there till I take this stuff out to the kitchen, then we’ll go outside.”
When she didn’t answer, he turned to look at her and saw that her eyes were closed. He exhaled heavily. This was turning out to be much more difficult than he’d thought. He wasn’t giving up, though. He had waited too long for this chance to prove his love.
*
Lacie let herself relax into the pillows while she waited for Craig to return, trying to keep from going under again, but she was just so damn tired. She hated this feeling of helplessness. Surely she should be showing some signs of improvement by now. How long had she been here? Three days? Five? Longer? Days and nights ran into one another; she spent so much time sleeping that everything became a blur.
Her aches and pains had lessened considerably, but she suspected that had a lot to do with the pain killers Craig was giving her. That, in addition to whatever bug she’d happened to pick up, was keeping her down and out. She was as weak as a newborn kitten and shaky, with frequent bouts of dizziness and general wool-headedness. Even when she was awake, it was hard to focus. The days, dreams, nightmares, and reality were melding together, overlapping and interweaving, and it was becoming harder and harder to distinguish what was real and what was not.
She liked the dreams the best. In them, she was with Shane, making love for hours on end in some remote location, just the two of them. He would hold her in his arms, whisper words of love and endearment against her skin, tell her how they were meant for each other and that they would always be together.
Then the dreams would morph into something inherently darker. It wasn’t Shane’s voice whispering to her anymore, it was someone else’s. Shane’s gentle lover’s touch became harder, rougher, almost punishing. She would try to scream, but no sound came out. Her arms and legs were useless; no matter how much she struggled she could not move, held down by an impossibly heavy weight draped over her, battering her already-broken body over and over again as she fought for breath until she was suffocating beneath him.
Just when she thought she couldn’t bear any more, the pain would lift, the heavy weight would ease, and she could breathe again. Then the darkness would return – the blessed, lovely darkness – and shush quietly in her ear, stroke her hair, tell her that everything would be alright. She was safe, she was loved, and all she had to do was let go...
Eventually she’d swim up through the darkness into the light again, and her world was recognizable once more.
In her brief periods of lucidity, Craig was kind, caring, and attentive. He massaged her arms and legs. Made her tea and soup. Read to her when she couldn’t focus on the words herself. Carried her out to the porch for fresh air and to watch the sunset each evening.