Page 79 of Backdraft
“Shh, I’m okay. You won’t hurt me. Let me take some of your pain away,” she said quietly. “And, you were not to blame.”
He draped his arm over her belly and did his best to relax, ever careful not to put too much weight on her.
They lay in silence, neither saying a word. He’d told her something so painful, and she’d taken it in. Never had he felt so at peace.
Chapter Twenty-Three
A week later, I was tucked up on the couch in front of the window looking across the front lawn of Taylor's house.
I was discharged after I gave some push back to leave. They wanted to keep me for another few days to ensure that my burn was getting the proper attention, but Taylor had stepped up and said she was going home with a doctor. He could handle it.
It was one of the first times I’d heard Taylor announce to the world that he was a doctor and not a medical examiner.
Even after the tragic telling of his Dr. Death feelings, I trusted him. I told him so and we’d clung to each other in the hospital when he’d finished. There were no words of comfort I could offer him, only the silence of listening and being there for him. There had been a big shift in our relationship after that. I felt it, and he told me he did too. We were closer than ever.
Cinder was curled up on my lap, and I stroked him. He purred like a motor, and his eyes were half closed as he basked in the sun that came through the window.
I was pretty sure he’d missed me. Of course, he’d given me the silent treatment when I first got home, but it wasn’t long before he forgave me.
It was still difficult for me to do anything, even the simplest task was tough. Taylor had set up a table beside me with everything I could possibly need while he was gone. Even an ice bucket to keep drinks chilled so I didn't have to get up. I had the remote control for the TV. I had my laptop. I had my phone and even a couple of books to read. I was set.
The comforter made me feel cozy, and the soft pillows behind my back were so much better than the hospital bed.
I had to remind Taylor I wasn't an invalid, and that it was okay for him to go to work. Should anything happen, I would call. The last I’d heard the bad guy was in police custody.
It was just so damn good to be home.
The house was quiet and my headphones played calming music softly. I let out a sigh as I woke up from yet another nap and a wave of feeling useless washed over me. I was unable to really do anything, physical or mental. I was exhausted. The doctors had advised me to expect this and said I'd bounce back. But I wasn’t bouncing as quickly as I wanted to.
I rested back on pillows and turned my face to the ray of sun coming in the window. Warmth spread over me, and the scent of flowers from the garden came in on the breeze.
I was looking forward to Taylor coming back from work. He was going to bring pizza, wings, and some beer. We were going to talk. Talk about us, where we are, and where we’re going. We still hadn't discussed our unfortunate argument just before my accident, but I wasn't sure we needed to. It was as if we both understood where it had come from, and everything was fine.
We’d grown closer, and I really wanted to figure out if we could make it as a couple.
My thoughts drifted off into nothingness, and I stroked Cinder's soft neck. His purring lulled me, and I drifted off into a shallow nap.
Cinder jumped off me, his paws digging deep into my belly, and it woke me up with a start.
"Damn, why do you do that? It hurts, you know." I reprimanded him as he ran into the kitchen and knew full well he didn't care in the least. I took off the headphones and listened to the birds singing outside.
I had to go to the washroom, so I got off the couch and steadied myself. I saw the walking stick that Taylor had left right beside the coffee table. I felt a little unsteady and used it to shuffle my way to the washroom. The window was slightly open, but the blinds kept it private.
Sounds of birds tweeting came in the window, and there was a thump that must've been Cinder jumping off the counter. He was probably looking for food.
I couldn’t see him. I looked out the window of the kitchen door to see if he'd gotten out, opened it and called him. He came from the laundry room, taking his own sweet time.
“There you are, you rascal.”
A funny smell made me wrinkle my nose. It was a weird citrusy or lemony odor with a tinge of something else I couldn't quite place. Someone could be painting or varnishing.
I closed the door and locked it. Picking a few treats for Cinder from the jar, I tossed them on the floor. He chased after them quite happily, and I made my way back to the couch. That was enough exertion for now.
Once comfortable, I took a bottle of sparkling water from the ice bucket. Taylor had cut up some lemon—he was so thoughtful—and I dropped a couple of pieces in the glass.
This past week, he'd really shown his caring side, and I reveled in the love I felt for him.
I put the drink down and then leaned back into the pillows again when I heard a ping on my laptop. An email had come in. I struggled to a sitting position and balanced the laptop on my knees.
