Kathryn lifts her head and pushes wet hair out of her face. “Allergic reaction? They told me you had food poisoning.”
“Feels about the same.” Something hits my brain. “Wait, who told you that? The hospital?”
“No. Oh my God, if only you knew what I’ve been through today!”
She tells me, in a garbled tone that continues to break my heart. Kathryn is already neurotic enough on her own. She doesn’t need me disappearing off the face of the Earth to make it worse. She also doesn’t need to go on a treasure hunt to find my dead body, although I don’t doubt she would. I could be kidnapped by assholes looking for a sweet ransom payment and she’d personally go down to the warehouse where I’m being held and scream at them until they release me because they don’t want to deal with her crazy heiress ass anymore. Kathryn doesn’t often fall that far on the crazy caboose, but she will if she has to.
Aw, she did it for me. Makes me wonder how crazy I can get for her! Damnit. I don’t want to actually think about that. It hurts too much living in this reality right now as it is.
“Kunihiro, huh?” I don’t even remember. I’m sure he was the one who brought me to the hospital or at least arranged the ambulance for my sick ass. They say Akihiro left early? Fuck, I don’t remember that either. I must’ve been too sick and drunk by that point to remember anything. Might as well have been Roofied.
“That guy is a piece of work,” Kathryn spits. “No wonder he’s bottom of the food chain in the family. If it weren’t for Junri, I wouldn’t have ever found you.”
“I told them to call you.”
“They did, but I didn’t get it until we were already here. Even so, you think I could’ve handled coming here by myself?”
I have enough energy to kiss the back of her hand. “You made it. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. I had to find you. Do you understand?” That hand I kissed cups my face. It’s the greatest touch I’ve felt in my life, like an angel has come to my bedside and blessed me with her ethereal essence. Kathryn’s touches have always been profound to my tiny mortal brain, but this? This is something from another universe entirely.
The thought of her leaving my side at all tonight kills me. I don’t care if I’m released tomorrow. I don’t want her going anywhere. I’d turn my own mother away if I wasn’t allowed to see Kathryn too.
“I’m glad you did.”
The nurse returns, coughing loud enough to interrupt our sappy love fest. “I’m afraid we have to ask you to leave in about fifteen minutes, Mrs. Mathers.”
Now, the woman’s accent is thick as shit, and I’m addled to hell and back, so maybe I misheard what she said, but…
Did she call Katie “Mrs. Mathers?”
“Thank you,” Kathryn says. We don’t say anything until the nurse leaves again.
“So…” I begin. “What was that about, Mrs. Mathers?”
She grimaces. “I lied to them about being your wife.”
Oh ho ho! This is juicier than her lips after she douses them with gloss. “How did you swing that?”
She pulls out her phone and shows me the picture of our Vegas marriage license.
“That’s amazing.” Really, it is. Only Kathryn would come up with that on the spur of the moment and convince the nurses that it’s still valid. This after she apparently fudged and said we weren’t married to begin with? Again, amazing. That’s one of many reasons I’m with this woman. “Now Japan is going to think we’re married. How do you feel about that?”
“Better than how you probably feel right now.”
I snort. It hurts to snort, thanks. “I’ll be fine, love. You’re the one getting called Mrs. Mathers right now.”
“Better than you being called Mr. Alison, right?”
I swear we’ve had this conversation before. “That wouldn’t bother me. I’d lie about being your legally wedded husband if it meant I got to see you, were our situations switched. I wouldn’t think twice about introducing myself as Mr. Alison. Your dad’s pretty cool, and he’s the only other Mr. Alison I know.”
Something burns behind her eyes. I don’t know if it’s anger, embarrassment, or a new idea forming in that quick mind of hers. “We’ll talk about this later. All I care about right now is making sure you’re okay.”
“Now that you’re here with me?” My fingers brush back her hair as she attempts to stuff a straw in my mouth. Yes, yes, I’m parched. I don’t care. I want to touch her as much as possible right now. Is it too much to ask that we spend our limited amount of time together touching what we can? “I’ll be fine. Knowing you’re ready to take care of me makes me better.” If I smile widely enough, will she acknowledge that I’m joking?