He kissed the top of her head. “You still smell like Alice.”
“If my normal smell is sweat and antiseptic and hospital stench.” She buried her nose further into his chest. “I love you.”
His low chuckle made her want to cry. She really needed to get ahold of herself. Her emotions had been alarmingly fragile lately.
“Do you love me, or my clean shirt and steam-showered body?”
“It’s all good, trust me,” she muttered thickly.
“Excuse me,” a woman said.
Alice withdrew her nose from Dylan’s chest reluctantly. She saw a nurse’s aide standing a few feet inside her room, a wheelchair in front of her.
“I’m here to take you for your hearing test,” the aide said, smiling.
“Okay,” Alice groaned, starting to extricate herself from Dylan. She’d never wanted to leave a place as much as she did this hospital, and at the same time . . .
. . . she dreaded leaving there. She dreaded the decisions she needed to make.
“Why is she going for a hearing test?” Dylan asked the aide, standing.
“I’m not really sure,” the aide said. “Doctor’s orders.”
“Did the doctor say something to you?” Dylan asked Alice, his brow furrowed. The nurse wheeled the chair closer to her bed and helped Alice into it. It gave her a few blessed seconds of avoiding Dylan’s eyes.
“Alice?”
“It’s no biggie. The doctor thinks I have some hearing loss in my left ear.”
“What?” Dylan asked. She hated that look in his eyes. “What made the doctor think that?”
She sighed. “It’s not a major deal.”
“What made her think it?” Dylan demanded. “Was it something on the brain scans?”
“No.”
“Then why the hell—”
“She thought it because I told her,” Alice said, feeling cornered.
She watched his expression go blank.
“It’s not too bad, Dylan. There’s just a muffled quality on that side. My other ear is fine. And it might remit over time,” she reasoned.
Dylan nodded. Alice knew what he was thinking. It was yet another thing he’d feel guilty for. She struggled for something to say. The aide started to wheel her out of the room without waiting for Alice’s okay. Her inability to even move of her own volition only amplified her sense of helplessness.
“Stop,” Dylan barked from behind her.
The aide abruptly halted. Dylan stalked around her chair, giving the aide a pointed glare. He looked down at Alice.
“I love you,” he said gruffly. He leaned down and kissed her mouth.
“I love you, too,” she whispered.
*
AFTER her testing, both Maggie and Dylan were waiting for her in her room. She ate her lunch in their company, and then was drifting off to sleep to the sound of their muffled, murmured conversation, when the doctor came to talk about the hearing exam.
Alice had mild to moderate hearing loss in her left ear. She wasn’t shocked. That’s pretty much exactly how she would have described it. Dylan asked the doctor several questions. Dr. Sheldrake explained that they’d need to do more diagnostic testing on the ear on an outpatient basis to know whether or not the damage was permanent. She’d be referring Alice to a specialist.
“Now for the good news. The rest of your tests came back clear, so we’ll be discharging you tomorrow. You’re going home,” Dr. Sheldrake said with a smile.
“Hallelujah,” Dylan muttered.
“Amen,” Maggie seconded.
Alice could only manage a shaky smile. She didn’t know where “home” was.
TWENTY-THREE
That afternoon when she woke up from her nap, Dylan wasn’t in the room. A nurse poked her head in the door and said that the doctor wanted her to do a supervised walk. She’d been up from bed to use the bathroom, but this would be a much longer walk, back and forth down the hospital corridor.
“Got to get you back in shape for your marching orders tomorrow,” the nurse joked.
Alice was mortified by how stiff, weak, and painful her muscles were. She felt like every inch of her body had been beaten. Fortunately, her joints started to loosen with the movement.
When she reached the waiting room, Alice immediately noticed Dylan. He sat next to Sidney Gates. She paused. She nearly called out to them. Something stilled her tongue. Dylan sat with his back to her, his head lowered, his broad shoulders stiff. For some reason, his pose called to mind solitude, despite the fact that Sidney was right there. Sidney’s face was turned partially in profile. He was talking quickly and soberly. Alice thought he was trying to convince Dylan of something. Whether it was her damn hearing loss, or there was just too much bustle around the nurses’ station, Alice couldn’t quite make out what Sidney was saying so emphatically. She suspected one thing, though.
Dylan wasn’t buying it.
Suddenly, she made out one of Sidney’s words: Guilt.
A sharp pain went through her that had nothing to do with the physical.
“Are you all right?” the nurse asked.
Alice nodded. “I’m just a little tired,” she said, turning to head back to her room.