A nurse is in the corner, sitting on a stool as she types information into a computer. She gives us a smile and tells us that Emmy hasn’t woken up yet, but if all goes well today, they’ll move her to a regular room tomorrow.
Jane rushes past me, grunting as she bumps my shoulder to get past me. She throws me a look over her shoulder. “Points for coming, but I’m the first person she’s going to see when she wakes up. I love her, Graham. She is the toughest person I know. The most beautiful soul. And you can’t see it.”
My heart is in my throat. I do see it. Emotion claws at my throat with sharp nails. She looks entirely helpless lying there.
All those dreams I had, the ones where I’m tackled and can’t breathe, and then she shows up, beckoning me to safety, to love. I’ve been so blind, trying to push her away, when she’s everything. I’ve just been too afraid to face it head on.
“She’s the one,” I whisper under my breath as I grip the rails of Emmy’s bed.
Jane frowns, rearing back. “Don’t you dare fucking cry on me.”
Ignoring her, I sit down and take Emmy’s hand and thread our fingers together, and then I speak to her, even though she probably can’t hear me. “I’m sorry, darling. I’m yours, I’m here, and I’m not leaving. I came back from the dead—for you.”
Chapter 31
EMMY
My eyes flutter open, adjusting to the light overhead as I take in the room. I woke up a couple of times earlier, but only for a few moments before I drifted back asleep. The room has a small table in the far corner next to the window, with a bouquet of pink-and-white peonies. From the light coming in through the window, it looks to be late afternoon. Wilbur the pig is next to my leg. Jane is asleep on a cot, and on the other side of me Graham sits, his eyes wide as he stares at me. His face is unshaven, his hair sticking up and clothes rumpled. I remember him from the last time I woke up but thought it was a dream.
He leans forward. “Hey. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up. Everything went great. How are you feeling? Are you in any pain?” His gaze goes to the area on my side where my bandages are under my gown.
“Hey, um, I-I didn’t expect to see you.”
“Jane called me. I flew home as soon as I heard.”
“Your game? How was it?”
Before he can reply, the nurse comes in to check my vitals and record them on her computer. She checks the incisions around my body with practiced hands. I suppress a wince as her fingers brush against one of the stitches. She asks me my pain level, which is moderate, and gives me pills in a cup to take.
Graham hands me a Sprite. “You asked for one earlier when you woke up. I got you several.”
I barely recall. I lean back to the pillows, careful to keep my eyes off him directly, not wanting to get lost in his gaze. I take another sip of the Sprite, the cool liquid wonderful to my throat. “You didn’t have to come. I’m fine.”
“I’m not fine, Emmy,” he says a few moments later as he turns my chin, making me meet his gray eyes. I note the haggardness of his face, the shadows under his eyes. “I didn’t know what was going on. I thought something horrible might have gone wrong with your heart.”
I play with my covers, threading them through my hand. “I left the divorce papers at your place. I’m not taking any of your money. Things are working out for the Darling family. Jane is working at the store full time, and Andrew is going to take a gap year and work at the store. It wasn’t my idea, but it’s his decision, and he wants to contribute.”
He rubs his face. “David shouldn’t have come to you without speaking to me first. He only did it because that was the plan from the start, to do divorce proceedings after the inheritance, but now that—”
“I’m really tired,” I say, interrupting. “I need to rest.”
He puts his hand on mine. “Will you at least look at me, Emmy?”
I hold his eyes, and his face is so tender that it almost hurts more than any physical pain could ever do.
A tear slides down my cheek unbidden, and he quickly wipes it away with his thumb before pressing my palm to his heart. He holds it there. “I’m sorry. For everything,” he says quietly. “Let me be the one who takes care of you.”
Emotion tugs at me like a weight. Seeing him like this only makes things worse.
I manage a smile. “There’s no need to feel obligated. I’m exhausted. Can you go?”
“You want me to go? Truly?”
I nod.
He inhales a deep breath. “I’ll be back when you’re feeling better.”
“Don’t. I mean, I have Jane and Babs and Andrew. Besides, you have a life you need to get back to.”
A vulnerable look flashes over his face, a brief moment, before he tucks it away, his throat moving.
“Call Jane,” I say. “She’ll tell you how I’m doing.”
“Emmy—”
“Will you just give me some space?”
I stare at the TV on the wall, watching from the corner of my eye as he exhales, then walks out the door.
Jane, whom I suspect has been listening to us, sits up from her cot, her hair ruffled around her head. An exaggerated yawn comes from her. “These five a.m. surgeries are crazy. How are you feeling?” she asks as she checks me over like a mother hen. “Everything all right?”
I wince as I try to sit up more. “I told you not to tell him, and you did.”
She shrugs. “Technically he’s still your husband, Emmy. And I’ve witnessed for myself how he looks at you. He needed to know.” She pauses. “And he dropped everything and came. He seems genuinely scared and rather pathetic.”
My fingers touch Wilbur. “Graham feels sorry for me. It’s who he is.”
Jane watches me intently, her gaze softening as she takes in my expression. She reaches out and places a hand on my shoulder. “I’m not so sure I agree with you, but you are the one who just had surgery, so whatever you say, goes.”
Chapter 32
EMMY
“Graham offered us a town car to take us home, and I told him yes,” Jane says as she helps me get dressed a few days later.
“Fine,” I say as I slide on a pair of joggers easily enough, but the loose blouse requires more movement and makes the incisions sting. I slip my feet into a pair of sneakers, and she brushes my hair and puts it up in a high ponytail.
The best way to deal with the things Graham has done since my surgery is to keep my emotions locked down.
“He’s worked at the bookstore for the past two days,” Jane continues. “He needed something to keep him busy, since you said he couldn’t visit you here.”
I take the brush from her hand and stuff it in my bag. “That’s great.”
She exhales. “I swear the man nearly cried when he saw you.”
I shrug. “He’s empathetic. Don’t read into it.”
“God, you’re so annoying.” She rolls the wheelchair up and pats the seat. “Now have a seat, and we’ll escape this place.”