Page 40 of Only Yours
Sophie reaches out a hand. “Reina, it’ll be okay. He’s home, and that’s all that matters.”
I take a deep breath. She’s right. He’s home. That’s all I care about.
Chapter 37
I’m not used to being babied. And I really suck at it. -Brian
Brian
I fucking hurt. I hurt in places I didn’t know I had. Most of the time it’s a burning pain that makes me want to scream out loud.
During the best times, I have dreams of Reina. During the worst times, I dream of fire and pain. And screams. The fucking screams are the worst. I want to wake up and leave them behind, but every time I try to resurface, I get pulled back down again. Down into this murky in between where dreams blend with reality.
Sometimes, I hear voices and they pull at me to open my heavy eyelids. My mom’s voice, my little sister’s small cries, Liam’s deep ones….and Reina’s sweet voice calling to me, telling me she loves me.
That last part is why I’m finally able to push my heavy eyelids up and blink at the glaring lights of the room.
“He’s awake! Sophie, he’s awake!” Reina’s shocked voice is coming from my right. I try to turn my head and groan when the movement makes me want to scream.
“Stay still, babe. Just…stay still. I got you.” I feel Reina’s soft lips against my cheek, and I sigh. She’s here. Everything will befine. Everything will be better now, and these screams will go away.
The motions of a hospital are repetitive. Once I open my eyes once, they keep expecting me to do it over and over again. I finally give up with a huff and open them wide.
Time passes here in a blur. Over the next few days, I learn what happen in spurts and fits. My mom tells me about Captain Franks’ death, and for the first time since I was little, I sob as she holds me. I learn that I was hit on my right side by the blast, and my leg took the brunt of the damage. The side of my face is bandaged so I know it probably looks like hell, but I can’t find it within myself to care.
To be honest, beside the burning pain, it feels impossible to feel anything real. There’s a void inside me that feels as painful as the leg I refuse to try to lift. Therapists bustle in and out, chipper and awful, telling me to do this and that. I ignore them while staring straight ahead.
Reina, my beautiful Reina, is there every day.
“Babe, you have to do what they say. Just try,” she begs after two days of me silently shaking my head at the professionals that swing through and look at me with sympathy and frustration.
“I’ll do it when I’m good and ready,” I growl. Watching her face fall makes my heart hurt, but I can’t muster up anything sweet to say. In my old life, I would have known the right thing to say to put a smile on her face. I would have made sure she knew how much I appreciated her being here every day. This Brian, this new Brian, doesn’t have the words or the strength.
After a few days of my silent rebellion, Reina grabs my hand when they come in. “Brian, you have to try to get better. Please, for me. Just do it for me.” Her face is so full of concern that I bite back my shitty reply. Her expressive dark eyes beg me to be acquiescent. I give her a grim nod.
“Lyla, did you see? He’s finally going to try,” she says to the blonde woman in the nurse’s uniform beside her, and I raise my eyebrow when the nurse grabs her hand and gives her a slight smile.
“I see, Reina. That’s a good sign,” the nurse says softly.
Shit, my whole family knows who these nurses are, and I don’t have a clue. I haven’t seen them as anything but bearers of pain since I woke up. They’re always shifting me around when I don’t want to move, taking my blood pressure when I’m trying to sleep, and being cheerful when I just want to fucking punch something.
For Reina that day, I give a half-hearted effort. And it fucking hurts. Just like I knew it would.
Before the blonde nurse leaves the room, she murmurs something to Reina and Reina’s eyes cut to me. She glares at me like I’ve kicked a puppy, and I squirm.
As soon as everyone leaves the room, she stands up, fists balled up by her side. “Brian, I’m trying so damn hard to be patient.” She walks over and grabs the railing of my bed. Her long fingers twist around the metal bar.
“Thanks for the patience, considering I’m the one laying in this hell hole,” I snark back. I immediately cringe inwardly.Why can’t I just be nice to her? Why can’t I be the smooth Brian she knows? Why the fuck am I trying so hard to push her away?
She closes her eyes, and when she opens them again, there’s a sheen of tears in them that makes my gut twist.
“Listen, soldier boy, I know you’re hurting. I know you’ve been through a lot, but you need to try. There are a shit ton of people here for you, and you’re throwing it all away because you want to pout and feel sorry for yourself.” She flips her long, black hair over her shoulder and fixes me with a stare designed to make me feel like a shithead. “Your family and I, we love you. We love you so damned much that the thought of losing…”she pauses, and I swallow, “the thought of losing you almost shattered all of us. And now, you’re acting like you don’t give a shit about getting better. I just don’t understand it. Make me understand it.”
How can I make her understand something I don’t understand myself? Fuck.
I turn my head away from her. She sighs at my sign of rebellion.
“Just talk to me, Brian. You survived! You’re here. We’re so damned happy you’re here, but we need you to try to get better.” The pleading in her voice is finally my undoing. Something within me snaps and I turn back to her.
