Page 50 of Ripple Effect

As Bentley nudgesthe front door with his cold, wet nose, I swing it open, letting him back into the warmth of the apartment. We step further into the living room, and I find Elio hunched over the couch, struggling with a wayward cushion.

His face is pinched in frustration, and the thin veneer of the past few hours is slipping. He’s unsteady, the imprint of the hospital still seeping from his skin. Despite the physical and emotional toll of the day, he’s stubbornly insistent on setting up his makeshift bed.

“Dare I ask what you’re doing?”

He glances at me, the edges of his eyes creased from fatigue. “Don’t know if you noticed, but I just got discharged from the ED. I’m pretty beat, so I’m gonna call it a night.”

“You really believe I’d let you sleep on the couch after the day you just had?”

His gaze turns stubborn, a glint of defiance sparkling in his eyes. “Daze, we agreed.”

“Agreements can change.” I cross my arms, folding them tightly over my chest. “Besides, you need a proper bed, somewhere you can fully relax without any strain on your heart.”

“Couch is comfortable enough.”

“You’re lying.” I scoff. “We both know you’re way too tall for the couch.”

His lips twitch into a weary grin. “Okay, you got me there. It might be a bit short for me, but it’s bearable.”

Not letting him off easy, I threaten, “I swear, Elio, if you don’t shuffle that stubborn ass of yours into your bedroom right this instant—”

A deep, hearty chuckle cuts me off, and he raises his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, bossy girl.”

“Well, someone has to be,” I say. “It’s hard enough to keep you in line.”

“Have it your way, then.”

“But there’s a condition,” I continue. “I’m sleeping on your bedroom floor. That way, I can keep a closer watch on you.”

His playful demeanor instantly shifts, a look of concern settling on his face. “Daisy, I can’t let you do that.”

“I promised the doctor I’d monitor you. How am I supposed to do that from the living room?”

“But I just ...”

“El,” I press on, “it’s for everyone’s peace of mind.”

His shoulders sag in defeat, and he pinches the bridge of his nose, a deep sigh escaping his lips. “You know what, why don’t you just share the bed with me? There’s enough room. And this way, I won’t feel like such a jackass for disrupting your life even further.”

“Yeah, I can do that.” Flames of embarrassment lick up my cheeks, but I manage to swallow my shyness long enough to nod. “And for the record, you’re not a jackass.”

A curious expression flashes across his face. “Why are you doing this, Daisy?”

“What do you mean?”

“All of this,” he says, sweeping his arm around the room. “You’re going to such great lengths to help me, and I don’t understand why.”

My response is almost instinctive, the words flowing from me without any premeditation. “Because I like you, because you deserve to be cared for.”

His laugh rings through the room, a soft, bitter sound. “Yeah, that’s unlikely.”

“I’m not sure who made you feel that way, because it’s so far from the truth.” I snatch the cushion out of his hand, placing it back in its rightful spot. “But we can discuss that another time. Tonight, we’re not dealing with heavy topics. Tonight, you’re going to rest.”

We move into Elio’s bedroom, a familiar space that suddenly feels foreign, heavy with the day’s unresolved tensions. As he undresses, the dim light of the bedside lamp highlights the muscled expanse of his body, etching the contrast between light and shadow, all those dips and ridged lines.

He’s shirtless now, his jeans hung low on his hips, revealing the deep V and the spattering of hair that trails below his zipper. My eyes flit around his naked torso and land on a tattoo I didn’t notice before—six tiny birds inked in a row along his ribs. Heat flares in my cheeks, and I quickly avert my gaze.

“Jesus, Elio!” I splutter.

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