Redemptive (Combative, #2)

My nose scrunched. “What?”

He pulled out the apple with one hand, the other remaining on my cheek. “Better?”

I nodded, ignoring how his touch made me feel.

“Good.” He stood back up and resumed his position, leaning on the counter behind me and watching me clean.

Sticking my head back in the oven, I continued my task. “You don’t have to watch me, you know? I’m sure there’s something you’d rather be doing.”

He chuckled. “I like my view just fine.”

*

“Diabetes?” I asked Doctor Polizi while I looked over at Nate anxiously. “What does that mean?”

Nate sat down next to me on the couch and took my hand. “What does it mean for her? I mean, as far as treatment goes?” he asked.

The doctor went through, in detail, what type of diabetes I had. He said I’d most likely had it my entire life, but it went untreated. And the fact that I’d probably shrugged off the symptoms as hunger didn’t help. He said I’d need to take something called insulin twice a day, and a whole bunch of pills to replace the vitamins I was lacking from being locked up all day with no fresh air or sunlight. He said it was a miracle I’d lasted as long as I had without the proper medication.

“But I feel fine most of the time,” I told him, even though I was looking at Nate.

“Your level of fine may differ from what it really should be. You might think what you’re feeling is normal because it’s constant, Bailey. Hopefully getting you on the right treatment plan will make you feel how you really should be feeling.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I stayed silent.

He pulled out a box from his medicine bag and sat down next to Tiny on the couch opposite us, then proceeded to lay out the content on the coffee table between us. He pointed out what everything was and what it was used for.

Nate sat next to me and typed away on his phone, asking all the questions I didn’t know to ask. All I could really understand was that I had to check my sugar levels and take the insulin stuff twice a day. Four needles. I’d already done a few tests so I knew what it would feel like, but when Doctor Polizi asked me to take a shot of the insulin so he could make sure I did it right, I panicked. I pinched the skin on my stomach with one hand, the other shaking as I brought it closer. I eyed Nate as he chewed his lip, watching me. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes. It’s just different. I mean… doing it myself. I don’t know…”

He exhaled loudly and rubbed his eyes. “Are you afraid of the pain?”

“No. I don’t think so…”

Doctor Polizi spoke up. “Will it help if Nate does it this time? And slowly you can build up to doing it yourself? Just in case he’s not around?”

I released a breath and let myself relax. “Would you?” I asked Nate.

“Of course.”

I stood in front him, lifting my shirt slightly and pinching the skin again. His fingers brushed mine when he took the needle machine from my hand. He glanced up at me before looking at the doctor. “Will it hurt her?” Nate asked, and my chest tightened at his words.

“No more than when we do the blood sugar tests,” Polizi answered.

Nate released a nervous breath as his free hand curled around my leg, gently pulling me closer to him. “You okay, Bailey?”

I nodded and closed my eyes and, as if on their own, my hands reached for the back of his head, my fingers lacing through his hair. Then I let the world fade around me.

In my mind, it was just Nate and me. In this one moment. And even though I knew it was nothing special… it was more than I’d ever felt for anyone. And it was a feeling I swore to treasure. A knot formed in my throat as I thought about the man in front of me. The man who saved my life and was continuing to do so. Not just from the outside world, but from myself. From my pain and my misery. I didn’t have to live in my past anymore. Instead, I could live in the now. And I could live with Nate. And if this was all my life would be, trapped with Nate, it didn’t seem so bad.

“Bailey?”

I kept my eyes closed so he wouldn’t see my tears.

“Bailey, you’re all done.”

“I am?” I croaked, finally opening my eyes.

“I didn’t hurt you?”

“No.”

The doctor cleared his throat, pulling my attention from Nate’s worried eyes. Polizi waited until I was sitting down before saying, “I managed to get you some insulin, but it’s not going to last long. I need to get you a script which is going to be hard without a name to put it under. I’d use Nate’s, but it may raise eyebrows because of his own medication.”

My eyes snapped to Nate’s. “You’re sick, too?”

“No.” He shook his head quickly and held my hand. “I’m fine.”

“But he said—”

“Bailey…” His brow pinched as he searched my face. “It’s okay. I’m fine. I promise.”

And I knew it then; Nate was, without a doubt, the most important person in my life. Not just because he was my only constant, but also because I cared about him, and I can’t remember the last time I let myself care about anyone.