I curl my hand around Gray’s and hold on tight. Turning my watery stare to the window, I let my tears track down my cheeks. I don’t bother dashing them away.
My heart is cracking down the middle and there’s nothing I can do to stop the ache that fills its place. I cry for all the pain that my family are in. I cry for Gray who is trying so very hard to save my life.
I must fall asleep because the next thing I know, Gray is leaning over me and unbuckling my seatbelt. We’re in the parking structure under our building. I rub the grit from my eyes. They’re still blurry when I take my hands away. My heart climbs into my throat. The doctor warned me that I could lose my sight. That the tumor could make me blind. But I blink and it’s not as bad. It’s only my webbed lashes.
Gray scoops me out of the car with both arms.
“I can walk.” My head is pounding. I rest my cheek against his chest and yawn.
“You can let me look after you, babe.” He shuts the door of the rental car with his hip.
The sway of his walk as he carries me into the elevator and then into the condo is comforting. He tugs my boots off my feet, and they drop with athud,thudnear the front door before he carries me into the bedroom and lays me down on the bed.
“I’m going to go back down and collect my briefcase and jacket. I’ll grab your bag too.” The weight of the fuzzy throw settles over me before he presses his lips to my temple. “Get some sleep. I’ll wake you when it’s time to take your meds.”
“Thanks.” I’m already sliding back into sleep as he leaves the room.
When I wake a few hours have passed. I draw the blanket tight around me as I wander out to find him set up with his laptop in the kitchen.
He glances at his Oris watch while I fill a glass from the dispenser on the fridge. “I was going to let you sleep a bit longer.”
“It’s okay.” I rest a hip against the cupboard while I sip my chilled water and eyeball the pill bottles all lined up in a row. “I slept long enough. I doubt I’ll sleep anymore tonight.”
“Well, I’m almost done here then we can watch a movie. I need to finish this email first.”
His brow troughs and he tugs the side of his bottom lip between his teeth. He’s so cute when he does that. He gets so lost in thought.
His gaze finds mine over the lid of his laptop. He rubs a hand over his jaw. “Indy, why was there an obscene cupcake in your bag?”
“You went through my bag?” I raise a brow at him. We’re not the kind of people to have secrets. I’ve never felt the need to keep anything from him. He knows my family, my friends, my deepest dreams and desires.
Or, at least, what I thought were my dreams and desires.
“Your phone was ringing.”
“Oh.” I lower my gaze. Of course he isn’t going through my bag like he doesn’t trust me. My phone rang and he wanted to answer it. Something we’ve always done for each other. I can understand why he’s questioning the cupcake. “I ran into a friend this afternoon and we ended up at this cute bakery.”
“And you decided to hell with the science and giving your body the best chance of recovery?”
“No.” I shove away from the counter to walk around the island to where he sits. “It was in case I felt like trying it after dinner. They’re supposed to be really great cakes. The best in the city. Better than St. Pierre.”
“That’s a tall order.” He swivels the stool away from the island so that he’s facing me.
“It is.” I sway into his arms. “I swear, I didn’t even have a nibble. I know how important it is to you that I look after myself.”
“It should be important to you, too.” He engulfs me.
“It is.” I smooth my hands up and down his back. “And I promise that I’m not eating cupcakes while no one is looking.”
“I’m so damn scared of losing you. It’s all I can think about.” He kisses my cheek and my jaw and my throat. “You’re my world. How am I supposed to not take your life seriously when it’s so precious to me?”
There’s a lump in my throat, and swallowing doesn’t budge it. Gray is a fixer. When there’s a problem, he works it until he finds the solution. I love that about him, but I’m not sure that skill isn’t setting him up for more pain than he can handle. “You can’t make me better, Gray.”
Gray doesn’t respond, except to hold me tighter. Eventually he clears his throat. “So these cakes… better than St. Pierre? Really?”
“Or so I’ve been told.” I smile as he brings about an end to our argument.
“Well, then we better try it, huh? Make sure we’re ordering our wedding cake from the right vendor?”
