Page 150 of Break Point
I’ve been pacing the waiting room for thirty minutes, growing more impatient by the second, when the nurse I’ve been harassing since I arrived finally approaches me.
“You can go in now, Miss Freeman,” she says, pressing a plastic clipboard against her chest. “Right this way.”
I sling my bag over my shoulder and follow her down the crisp, white hall.
“How did the surgery go?” I ask, my voice frantic as I try to keep up with the nurse’s pace.
“As it always does with Dr. Rivera’s surgeries,” she says in a playful but genuinely proud tone. “As expected.”
I let out a charged breath of relief through my mouth.
“Mr. Mitchell asked for you the moment he woke up in the PACU,” she says, glancing at me over her shoulder. “Expect him to be a bit groggy for the next few hours. He’s still coming off the anesthesia. But the mild sedative and pain meds should make him feel comfortable while he recovers.”
We reach Henry’s room, and the nurse gently opens the door.
“Let us know if he needs anything or if the pain becomes intolerable,” she says, holding the door open for me to step in. “Either way, we’ll check up on him later, and the doctor should come in to see him in the afternoon.”
I thank her and shut the door with a soft click.
Henry’s eyes flutter open as I make my way to him.
“Hey,” I whisper, leaning in close. I brush a curl off his forehead and kiss his cheek. “How are you feeling?”
His shoulder is in an immobilizing sling, and an IV in his left hand pumps fluids, and probably a cocktail of heavy meds, into his vein.
“Holaaa,” he says with shuttered lids, his voice hoarse but adorable as hell.
He coughs and clears his throat.
“Do you want some water?” I catch his face in my hand, needing to feel him.
Those eyes. That jaw. Those lips.
He’s so goddamn handsome. And mine.
He shakes his head with a twitchy smile.
“Just you,” he says, his voice slurring. “I loved you since you had braces and hated your serve.”
I stay perfectly still, staring at his face.
“You’re delirious,” I laugh. It’s soft, breathy, and a little broken around the edges. But something in me shifts. He said it like it’s always been true. Like he’s been waiting for the right moment to say it out loud. “God … I think I’ve loved you forever.”
“Tell Joe I’m the one.” He blinks slowly and lets out a faint chuckle.
Definitely delirious.
He closes his eyes and drifts back to sleep before I can tell him I already did.
A nurse pops into the room, waking me up. I’m not usually a nap person, but I couldn’t help but doze off while Henry rested. She walks in, checks on Henry’s fluids, and walks out again after excusing herself.
Henry’s awake.
And I was asleep, wasting precious time.
“How long have you been up?” I ask, mortified.
“Only for ten minutes.” His voice is still rough but steadier now. The anesthesia fog seems to be lifting. “Didn’t want to wake you. You looked so cute with your mouth hanging open.”
