Page 78 of Heal Me

I nod. “Yeah. I hear you. Thanks Tom. Tell Josie I’m sorry for dragging you out tonight.”

He smiles softly. “She understands and sends her love. Call me tomorrow morning. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Tom steps into the elevator, and after the doors close, I turn off all the lights and head upstairs. I stand in the doorway, watching Jocelin read, and once again, the words are on the tip of my tongue.I love you.I want to tell him, but after tonight, would he believe me? And if he did, I don’t want the first time I tell him how I feel to be mixed up with an apology. Pushing off the doorframe, I walk to his side of the bed and sit next to him. If I take his hand, would my touch be welcome? I’m too cowardly to risk the rejection, so I rest my hand on my thigh, fighting the urge to clench it. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

He puts his book down and takes my uninjured hand in his. “I know,mon chéri. And I accept your apology. This is a very stressful time, and this isn’t the first bad thing to happen to you.”

He doesn’t say it, though I hear the unspokenbuts. ‘But you’re frightening me.’ ‘But it can’t happen again.’ “That’s no excuse for what I did. For frightening you.” I lean down and rest my head on his shoulder. “Joce, you’re the very last person I want to hurt. Being with you, having you by my side, is everything.”

He cups my cheek with his hand. “Where else would I be but with you?” Scooting over, he pats the bed. “Come, lie with me.” I kick off my shoes and lie down next to him. Pulling me into his arms, he strokes my hair. “It will be fine. No matter what, we will be fine.”

I want to ask him how he can be sure, but before I can form the words, sleep pulls me under.

I wake and know it’s late. Or early, depending on how you look at it. Jocelin’s still asleep, curled against my side. He must have changed into sweats before going to bed, but I’m still wearing yesterday’s clothes. I reach out to brush a lock of hair from his face and wince as I flex my fingers, recalling my injury and what caused it. God, he’s the best thing in my life, and I’m going to fuck it up. No matter what he says, if I keep acting like this, I’ll lose him. I need to get my head on straight. Bjorn has to pull through. Things need to be okay again. I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling for what feels like hours, and then my phone buzzes, pulling me out of my gloomy thoughts. Astrid’s name appears on the screen, and cold dread grips my chest. With shaking hands, I answer the call. “Bean.”

She sniffles and clears her throat. Fuck. “We’re out of the woods.”

I sit up, unsure I’ve heard her properly. “What?”

“Bjorn’s still unconscious, but the doctor said, barring any odd infections or health complications they aren’t aware of, they think Bjorn should make a full recovery.” I cover my mouth to muffle my sob. “He’ll be in the hospital for a while longer, obviously, and he’ll need physical therapy, but he’s going to be fine.”

I take deep breaths and fight to keep my voice low so I don’t wake Jocelin. “Thank God.”

“I know. God, that was so scary!”

I nod as I press my finger and thumb against my eyes. “It was. Okay. I’m gonna go. We’ll see you later at the hospital.”

“Are you okay, Gunnar?”

I sniff and nod. “Yeah. Just… tired. I’m gonna try to get some sleep.”

“Okay. I love you very much, and I’ll see you later.”

“Love you too, Bean.” I hang up the phone and let the tears flow.

Jocelin stirs next to me, his palm smoothing over my back. “Gunnar, what is it?” Even sleepy, his voice conveys all of his concern.

I lie back down and pull him against me, kissing his hair. “Good news. The doctor said Bjorn is going to be fine.” He tries to push up on his elbow, but I tighten my arms around him. “No, babe. Go back to sleep. We’ll go over to the hospital later, once we get some more rest.”

He stops resisting and settles against me. “You’re sure?”

I nod, kissing him softly. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Okay.” He snuggles into my side, head on my shoulder, and in minutes, he’s softly snoring. Taking a deep breath, I exhale slowly, wiping away my tears. God, I’m a fucking mess. I don’t ever want to see that scared look on his face or hear the odd tone in his voice again. But I can do this. I can. I’ve done it before, and I’ll fucking do it again becauseI will not lose him.

Carefully, I extract myself from Jocelin’s warm tangle of limbs, quietly changing my clothes and using the bathroom before tiptoeing downstairs. I need to stop making bad decisions before I fuck everything up, and that means clearing my head. I grab my keys from the bowl in the kitchen and my helmet from the closet, then push the call button for the elevator. When I get to the garage level, I head toward my bike. I won’t be gone long. Just long enough to get my head straight again.

40

Jocelin

Iwaketoanempty bed and know something is wrong. Gunnar is almost never out of bed before me, and when he is, I can hear him in the shower or in the kitchen making tea. But the bathroom light is off, and I don’t hear sounds from anywhere else in the apartment. I throw off the covers and get out of bed, poking my head in the bathroom in case he’s left a note on the mirror or something. There’s nothing. Hurrying downstairs, I call for him, even though I know he’s not here. “Gunnar?” As expected, the living room and kitchen are empty, and tendrils of panic start to sprout in my gut. I rush back upstairs and grab my phone, hoping for a text or something, but there’s nothing. With growing dread, I call his phone. It rings several times and goes to voicemail. I try again, and then again, but when he doesn’t answer I give up and call Astrid.

“Hi, sweetie. Did Gunnar tell you the good news?” Relief washes through me as I realize he probably went to the hospital after Astrid called in the middle of the night.

“Is he there?”

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