Page 151 of The Persistence of Thornes
I shake my head. “Nope. I’m good here.” I step up to her side of the bed and hand her the mug I’ve filled with warm broth.
Her lips turn down. “But what if you get sick?”
“Then you can take care of me.” I wink. “Eat up. It’ll help.”
She scrutinizes the liquid for a moment, then, without argument, she takes a sip.
I settle into bed beside her and turn the TV on. “Anything in particular you want to watch?”
“Trashy reality TV? It’s the worst, but I love it.”
I laugh and flick through the channels until I find a show with several women sitting around in a fancy home with high ceilings and monochromatic decor. “This?”
“Perfect.” She gives me a tired smile, but it falls quickly, her shoulders curling inward. “I’m really sorry you had to come all the way home to take care of me.”
I shrug. “I’m not. There’s no place I’d rather be.”
Head tilted, she searches my face. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
“I’m not in the habit of saying things I don’t mean. You should know that by now.”
She’s quiet for a long while, slowly sipping her broth off a spoon. Eventually, she says, “I’m glad you came home.”
I smile over at her. “Me too.”
“I love you,” she whispers, the words sticking in her throat.
It’s hard for her to admit it, but that doesn’t bother me. For Halle, love makes a person vulnerable. For me, love makes them stronger.
With any luck, she’ll see it my way one day.
“I love you too.”
With a smile, she sets the mug on the table. Then she wiggles her way to my side and snuggles into me, her head on my shoulder.
I can’t help but brush my lips over her crown. The day this girl moved in next door, I couldn’t have imagined she’d move into my heart too, but now that she’s there, she’s not going anywhere.
CHAPTER 38
HALLE
The stomach bug lasts less than twenty-four hours, but when I wake and shuffle to the bathroom, I still feel weak.
Before I’ve even lifted the toilet lid, the door opens behind me, and Caleb appears.
Shit. Why didn’t I lock it behind me?
“What are you?—”
He pulls his hand from behind his back, waving a pink box in the air.
Damn pregnancy test. With a sigh, I glower at the box.
“I’mnotpregnant.” We’vebeen safe… mostly… and I don’t want to be pregnant, therefore I refuse to accept this as a possibility.
“Please.” He waggles the box in front of me. “For my peace of mind.”
“Get me a cup,” I grumble, snatching the box from him.
