“The kids will be here tomorrow morning,” she says.
“No,” I growl. “They will not see me like this.”
“See you like what?Alive?” she asks, irritation finally leaking into her tone. She slaps the cup on the wheeled table and moves it over the lower half of my body until it’s close to my chest.
And then, she’s silent.
I’m silent.
I’m broken—literally and emotionally.
“Shae, you didn’t ask for this.”
“No, but neither did you. And maybe you forgot when you bumped your head, but we’ve already gone over this. I ain’t going nowhere, Sandoval.”
I shake my head, a small movement.
“You heard the doctor. I’ve got a long road ahead. Fuck, I might not everwalkagain! Why would you stay for that?”
“You might not walk? But you very well could. In fact, the odds are in your favor,” she says, each word a point. “You ask why I would stay for that, like I have any other place I could be. My soul is connected to yours, Storm. I need to be here, and I want to be here. Right here. Right by your side.”
She leans in, placing her cool hands on each of my cheeks.
“And if you never walk ever again or if you start running marathons on the regular, I’m here.” She shakes my head, just a tiny shift. “Forever. All right?”
I search her face, look for any thread of uncertainty or reluctance.
All I see is love in her eyes, almost as much love as I feel for her in my heart.
“Okay,” I tell her, relaxing into the pillows.
“And don’t bring this leaving you shit up again. All it’s gonna do is piss me off, and we’ve got work to do.”
She looks downright surly, and a laugh bubbles in my chest, barely bursting out on a breath.
“There you go. Now,” she pulls the stick out of the cup, and on the end is a beveled pink sponge. It drips water on the counter. “Let me help you clean these teeth, because your breath iskickin’.”
That causes a full laugh to fill the room.
Shae swirls the foam around my teeth and gums with gentle movements, and when we’re done, she drops the cleaner back in the cup.
“I just had one more thought,” I say, suddenly very tired again.
“What is it, baby?” she asks, yawning with me.
“What if my…” I look down at my lap. “What if my dick doesn’t work anymore?”
She gives me a confused look for a second, then relaxes with a chuckle.
“It works,” she replies. I raise an eyebrow.
“Because that’s one of the first things Dr. Swanson volunteered after updating me on your surgery that first night.”
Well, thank fuck for small mercies.
Shae grabs my hand again, kissing the back of it, and when she lifts my fingers to her lips, her diamond engagement ring glitters under the hospital lighting.
“You’re still wearing it,” I say, awed. I don’t know why, but I expected her to take it off and hide any reminder of our uncertain future.