Page 11 of When Forever Stays

“I also got you some deodorant, a toothbrush, and toothpaste.”

“You’re even more of an angel than I originally thought,” Rhett says with such tenderness that I almost melt on the spot.

A thought invades my mind.Maybe there’s a reason it’s never worked out with anyone else.But then I remember what he did to me. How he left me without a word and turned me into a hopeless bachelorette.

“Don’t flatter me.” I drop the bag of toiletries on his bed. “If you need help getting dressed, I’ll?—”

“Could you?” he asks, pointing at the bandage covering his stitches and giving me an imploring look.

“I’ll help you with your shirt, but you’re gonna handle your underthings and pants on your own.”

He smirks and wiggles his eyebrows. The stupid organ in my chest goes wild. He’s forgotten everything, but somehow his flirtatious personality has stuck like gum under a desk. I stepaway from the curtain and pull it shut to give him privacy. I hear his grunts and mumbled frustrations.

“I’m decent,” he says, sounding breathless.

There’s a pained look on his face as I open the curtain. His chest heaves up and down as if the effort he put into getting partially dressed has drained him.

I carefully slide the neck opening over the bump on his head and tug the fabric slowly down. Once his face comes into view, he carefully slides his arms through the openings, and I pull it down over his ribs, my fingers accidentally brushing against his sides as I try to avoid his scrapes and bruises. He inhales a sharp breath and his jaw ticks but he doesn’t flinch away.

“Sorry,” I whisper, feeling my cheeks heat. Despite my curiosity about his inked skin and the scar I now notice on his abdomen, I do my best to focus on the task at hand and not ogle my charge.

My eyes lift to meet his, and I find him staring at me beneath hooded lids. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“I-I…” I stutter.

He cracks a smile, then grabs my hand and tugs me forward. “I like having your hands on me, my little siren.”

Rhett places his hands over mine, pressing them further against his rock-hard chest. I should say, “I’m notyouranything,” but all I get out is “Oh."

“We had something pretty amazing, didn’t we?” His eyes search mine as if he’ll uncover some buried truth if he looks long enough.

I swallow hard. “It was a fling.” The practiced lie is bitter on my tongue.

His gaze doesn’t stray, and I get lost in the depth of his eyes, transported back to our date. He looked at me from across the table with this same intensity. Tears spring to my eyes without my consent and I turn away. His calloused hand gently tugs on my wrist.

“There is no way it was a fling for me.” His voice is deep and rich, washing over me like my favorite song, familiar and comforting. Rhett tugs me closer, and despite the pain I felt just moments ago, I can’t fight the pull I have toward him. “I can’t tell you exactly what happened, but I am sorry,” he finishes.

Rhett’s Adam's apple bobs. The beeping machinery and hum of the air conditioner are the only sounds in the room. Despite the building moisture in my eyes, I don’t look away. He clings to me; his hand slides down my wrist even further, and he laces his fingers between mine.

If I continue spending time with him, I won’t have a choice but to let the past go and forgive him for hurting me. Because Rhett without his memories is already digging his way back into my heart. Then it hits me. Rhett with his memories is the one who left me. Eventually, Rhett will remember why he left and do it again. My foolish heart can hope all it wants, but I need to keep it guarded–Iwillkeep it guarded. I swallow the lump in my throat and give his hand a soft squeeze, then pull away.

“The nurse will be here any minute with your wheelchair. I’m gonna go get my car and I’ll meet you out front.”

FOUR

DANA

The entrance to the hospital is empty except for the muscular hunk in a wheelchair. Well, the muscular hunk and his flirty nurse.

The sky is an inky black. The streetlights cast a glow around Rhett, reminding me that he’s a living miracle. The scene is ruined by the look of pure disdain on his nurse’s face. Nurse McFlirty hasn’t tried anything since Rhett called me “sweetheart,” but she still looks at me as if I invented sunburn. She helps him stand, and I open the passenger door as he carefully makes his way over and slides in. I give the nurse a curt nod, and Rhett mumbles a “thank you” as he gets situated.

With a fake smile, she pushes the empty wheelchair back into the hospital with her nose tipped in the air.

I don’t have a moment to get into my car before I hear “Dana!” from a familiar voice.

My heart sinks. The voice belongs to Mitch, also known as the straw who broke my camel’s back—my most recent ex who just got engaged.

“Hey, Mitch,” I say with a smile despite the uncomfortable churning in my gut.

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