I shrug my shoulders. "I'll deal with the pain. I don't want to let you up from here."
She's surprised by that, and her face softens as she looks at me. "What if I promise to just get up and turn the light off and come right back?"
I bring one hand up and cover part of my eyes to shield it from the light, wanting to be able to look at her directly. "You promise?"
She nods, patting my chest. "I promise."
I let her get out of the bed and watch as she walks over to the door. It's like I'm holding my breath, hoping that she doesn't run from me. I don’t know what I’ll do if she walks out. Probably try and follow her and fall on my ass in the process. But she doesn’t run. She flips the light switch and walks back over to me, taking off her cross-body purse and putting it on the table next to the bed. She's about to crawl back in beside me when she looks at my arm. "Nash, it's this arm. I was lying on this arm that you were just shot in. Why didn't you say anything? I know it had to hurt."
"Honey, there's no way I was going to do anything that would stop you from lying in my arms."
She starts to walk away, and I reach for her, but she just keeps going. "I'm just going to the other side."
I nod and watch her walk around to the other side of the bed. She climbs up into the bed and tries to lie on her side, away from me. It's a small bed, and I take up a lot of the room, but I don't even want an inch between us.
The grogginess is starting to take over, but I'm not going to let it win until I know I have her firmly in my arms and she plans to stay there. "Closer," I grunt at her.
She scoots closer, and I put my arm around her and hold her tight. "I'm so sleepy, Emery."
She looks at me worriedly. "I didn't even ask. What did the doctors say? Are you even allowed to sleep?"
I yawn loudly. "It's just a concussion. No brain bleeds or anything. I just have to wake up every hour. Don't worry. The nurses will be in to wake me up, I'm sure."
"Oh, Nash," she says worriedly. "I'm so glad that you're okay. I don't know what I would do..." She stops suddenly as if she’s giving away too much. But I didn’t miss it. She doesn’t want me to know that she still feels something for me, but her words seem to give me hope. The truth is we are still bound together. She still loves me just as I still love her. Somehow, some way we have to find a way to make this work. I won't let anything else happen.
I mutter to her, "Promise me that you won't leave me."
I wait to hear her response. "I promise," she says.
And it's only then with her held tightly in my arms and the promise that she won't leave me that I finally let myself fall to sleep.
Chapter 8
Emery
I snuggle deeper into the hard warmth that is surrounding me. Something is drawing me awake, but I’m fighting it. I don’t want to lose the comfort I’m feeling right now. I can’t remember waking up so rested. There's an irritating beep, beep, beep, but I'm able to block it out. It isn't until I hear voices that I come fully alert. I blink as I open my eyes and see that I'm lying in bed with Nash, and then it all comes back to me. The doctor is talking, and I'm embarrassed to be found lying in the bed with a patient that has been shot. I'm sure this is against some kind of rules or something.
I struggle to get up, but Nash holds on to me tightly. "Stay, honey.”
I do as he asks so I don't make a scene, and the doctor continues. "The arm should heal nicely, but we're going to go ahead and put you on some antibiotics and something for the pain. The head injury is most worrisome, but I know this is not your first concussion. You'll need someone to make sure that you wake up every hour and that someone stays with you."
Nash’s forehead creases, and frustration is laced in every word he mutters. "I don't need a babysitter."
I look at him. He's one of the strongest men I know, and he hates to ask for help. He's always been this way. A lot of it is the way he grew up. He never had anyone. Since he was a young child, he's had to do everything on his own. Even when we were married, he never would let me share in things that bothered him. He just wanted to take care of it himself. Maybe that was one of our problems. I let him do that.