Page 16 of The Plus One
“Indira.” Jude said it more firmly, taking her hand and curling back her fingers to analyze the cut. It was about three inches long in the fleshy part at the base of her thumb, the depth of it worrying Jude.
“Come here,” he said gruffly, gripping beneath her elbows and lifting her to sit on a chair at the kitchen table. He moved quickly, grabbing paper towels for her to press against the wound before digging under the kitchen sink and in the pantry to find a broom and a dustpan and sweeping up the shards of glass.
“I can do that,” Indira protested, still clutching her hand.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back,” he said, putting away the broom and moving out of the kitchen.
“Jude, I’m fine. Don’t worry about—”
Jude ignored her objections, taking the steps two at a time as he ran to his room. Rifling through his duffel bag for a moment, he finally found his suture kit and hurried back to the kitchen.
“Are you allergic to iodine or anesthetics?” Jude asked in his detached, clinical voice as he unzipped the nylon case.
“No,” she said softly. “But Jude, it’s fine. I can suture it. I’m left-handed anyway.”
Jude focused on pulling out what he needed, pulse pounding sharply in his temples and tongue curling behind his teeth, a small tremble traveling down his spine.
He tried not to think of the last time he’d stitched someone up, just days before he’d left his post to come home. He’d been treating a minor laceration on a woman’s calf when his brain glitched, and he teetered between that present moment and a haunting memory. His nimble fingers had turned stiff and clumsy while his vision tunneled. He’d stepped away from the patient, gruffly telling a nurse to finish up while he did everything in his power to walk slowly out of the room instead of leaving in a dead sprint. He’d crammed himself into a supply closet, trying to catch his breath and instead hyperventilating until he nearly fainted.
But Jude wouldn’t let that happen again. Not now. Not when Indira needed him.
After snapping on a pair of gloves, he grabbed an iodine swab and some topical anesthetic, then turned back to her, kneeling at her feet.
He reached again for her hand, but she pulled it back. “Seriously. You don’t have to.”
Jude swallowed, then licked his lips, looking up at her.
“Let me do this for you, Dira,” he uttered, holding her gaze for the first time since he’d been back.
Indira blinked, then slowly held out her hand for him.
“Okay.”
He rested it against his palm, the heat of her skin seeping in through the gloves and making Jude’s breath tangle in his throat.
Gingerly, he dabbed at the wound, cleaning the area. It felt like something sharp hooked into his chest at her intake of breath from the sting. He placed the topical anesthetic over it to make her more comfortable. When she was numb, he checked more closely for any lingering shards of glass, holding the palm of her hand close to his face and tilting it in the light.
When he was satisfied that the area was clear and sterile, he got to work. He picked up the needle, hand trembling slightly. Holding surgical tools had once made Jude feel powerful. Infallible. Now it just felt damning.
With a deep breath, he steadied himself, carefully stitching her up, the only sounds in the room their off-rhythm inhales.
“There,” he said after a few minutes, smoothing a bandage over the area. He dragged the pad of his thumb against the rough material. “All done.”
Indira’s fingers closed around his hand for a moment, and he couldn’t look away from the spot where she touched him. He had the bizarre feeling that he’d fall backward the second she let go.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Jude managed to drag his eyes away from their hands and up to her face. “Of course,” he said through a dry throat, blinking rapidly.
They stared at each other for a moment, an odd cord of electricity tethering them together, pulling them just the tiniest bit closer.
Suddenly, a crash from upstairs, followed by Grammy’s howl and the sound of her running, jolted them both out of the trance.
Indira shook her head, letting out a huff of a laugh before pulling her hand away.
“And while I’m still not happy with you and the… uh… events that transpired earlier—”
A vibrant heat filled his cheeks at the roaring images that stampeded through his mind.
