Page 69 of Chasing You

“She hasn’t left your side since you got here,” Miles’s nurse, Sofia, says as she enters the room.

Miles' gaze stays locked on mine, like he’s searching for the reason why I have barely left this chair. As if it isn’t written in marker on my forehead.

I still love you, you idiot.

“How are you feeling today?” Sofia asks. “Is this the longest he’s been awake?” she asks me.

“Well, it’s the first time he’s attempted a joke,” I answer, and she just nods, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“How’s the pain, Miles? Low, moderate, or high?”

Miles closes his eyes, as if really trying to focus on the pain. “Moderate,” he says. “It’s a dull kind of ache at the moment.”

“Okay,” Sofia nods, dropping her board and pulling the stethoscope from around her neck. “Just a reminder for you, this button here,” she shows him a button attached to a tube running to somewhere beside his bed. “These are your painkillers, press it when you need relief, okay?”

Miles nods as she places the diaphragm against his chest. “Deep breath in for me.”

He follows her instructions, pulling in deep breaths and long exhales as she listens to his heart. I feel my own beating as I simply watch, waiting for any possibility, watching her face for any inkling of concern, but I don’t find any.

“Good,” she writes her notes on the clipboard. “And if thatpain ever becomes unmanageable, you press this button here, okay?” She shows him a bigger button, one that I’m assuming pages a nurse immediately. “I’m going to check the surgical wound now just to see how it’s going, okay?”

He gives a tiny dip of his chin, and Sofia moves to the top of his bed, undressing his wound. “How about you, Marina? When was the last time you ate something?”

“Oh, uhh…” the last thing I remember eating is the simple bread roll from Miles’s dinner tray last night while he was sleeping.

“Not recent enough, then,” she answers for me.

Miles’s eyes are locked on mine over Sofia’s shoulder. Like he can’t understand what I’m doing here, or why I’ve barely eaten at his side. I don’t blame his confusion, I haven’t been the warmest when it comes to our interactions these last few weeks, but surely he knows I’d always run to him if he was hurt, just like I know he’d run to me. Or maybe he’s not so sure of that anymore, not after everything that’s happened between us. I kind of forget he was unconscious for all of this time that I’ve been turning over what he told me before his surgery.

He has no idea what I’m thinking or how I feel about him. But it was never a question in my mind whether to be here or not. I barely had time to form a thought in the time between Isla hanging up the phone and me jumping on my bike.

“That’s looking good,” Sofia says, wrapping him back up with her delicate touch. “I’ll be back soon with an early dinner and a coffee.” She sends a pointed look my way and I just smile in appreciation before she leaves us alone. The room is somehow quieter now than it was while he was sleeping.

Nausea rolls through my tummy as Miles’s eyes continue to penetrate mine. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” he asks.

I stutter. “Likethat.”

He just sighs, his eyes closing for a moment, and I wish he’dopen them again. Even his assessing stare is better than not seeing those green eyes at all.

“Why are you sitting at my bedside?” he asks, and the question hits me like a gut punch. “You should be at home, burning my clothes and stomping around, huffing big, dramatic sighs when you think of me.”

“I do not sigh dramatically.”

“Yes, you do, and that’s besides the point.”

I drag my nails across my scalp. “What is the point, Miles?”

“That you should hate me more now, I told you everything. I told you the pathetic reason why I left you, why I broke your heart and here you are,” he gestures toward me with the arm not held up by a sling. “Supporting me.”

“Of course I’m here, Miles,” I sigh. It’s big and dramatic, just as he said. I press the heel of my palms into my eye sockets. “It takes too much from me,” I say.

Miles is quiet, and it makes me look up to check he hasn’t fallen back into sleep, but though his eyes hold exhaustion, they’re trained on me. Like he’s hanging off my every word in this moment.

“It takes too much from me to hang onto what happened. I have clung to it so tightly for four years, never giving up an inch. But all it has done has wrapped my hurt around my shoulders like a safety blanket. But instead of shielding me, that hurt just seeped into my bones. I wore it like armour, but as soon as I saw you at Isla’s wedding it was like you put a chink in it. Then that phone call from Isla, and seeing you here like this, it smashed that armour to pieces. I’m not going anywhere, Miles. Not right now.”

His mouth parts, like his body wants to speak but he’s not sure what to say.

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