Her jaw dropped. “You heard all that?”
“Every word.” I smirked. Cupping her jaw, I whispered, “I love you, Gemma.”
Eyes sparkling with unshed tears, she threw her arms around my neck. “You’re the first person to ever say that to me.”
“I won’t be the last,” I vowed.
A watery laugh sounded against my neck. “We’ll see.”
Running a hand up the length of her back, I teased, “So, how’s this gonna work? Do I need to pretend to be asleep for you to tell me again?”
Even though I couldn’t see her, I knew she was giving me the mother of all eye rolls. “Not funny.”
“Don’t mind me.” I couldn’t help but smile. “Just wondering how a woman brave enough to lie to medical staff about a relationship status is too afraid to say she loves her fake husband—technically, her real fiancé if we’re splitting hairs—to his face. That’s all.”
Lifting her head, she brushed her lips against mine for the first time since I’d awoken. “I love you, Sasha.”
“That’s better.” I sighed.
The tender moment was short-lived, however, because she hit me with a dose of that sharp tongue that always got my blood pumping. “Now don’t go doing anything stupid like dying on me for real because I can’t do this again.”
Holding her close, I whispered against her temple. “Yes, dear.”
Happy wife, happy life, right?
Chapter 31
Goose
“I’d like to keepyou here for a few days for observation before moving you down to a regular room by the end of the week,” Dr. Vance remarked, making notes on his tablet after his examination.
“When can I go home?” My voice grew stronger each time I used it.
The doctor met my eye. “I’m going to be honest with you, Mr. Gusev. You’re looking at a long recovery. Your brain and body have mostly healed while you were unconscious, but there will be lingering effects from the coma. Every case is different, but with the length of yours, I would expect you to need months of physical therapy. Your muscles have weakened with disuse. You’ll have to relearn even the most basic of motor functions, such as walking.”
I wasn’t fool enough to ask when I could get back on the ice. I was lucky to be alive. If I never played another game of hockey, it would be a small price to pay for surviving that car crash.
“Is it possible to have someone come to my home? I have a gym set up; we could get additional equipment—whatever the therapists need.”
Dr. Vance hummed, mulling it over. “Is your house handicap accessible? If I release you to complete therapy at home, you’ll be in a wheelchair. There’s no telling for how long.”
I was determined to get out of here as fast as humanly possible. Whatever it took, I’d make it happen.
“Make me a list of what modifications need to be done to my house so that you’ll sign my discharge papers.”
“Very well. If you can prove to me your home meets your specific physical needs, I might be able to have you out of here in a week.”
I sighed, itching to break out of this place. “Fine. What about visitors?”
He arched an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“What are the limitations on visitors while I’m stuck in here.”
The doctor’s eyes shifted to Gemma standing beside my hospital bed. “We’ve allowed your wife unlimited access.”
“I’m not asking about my wife.” I smirked, peeking at the woman I loved whose gaze had dropped to the floor as I leaned into her lie. What she didn’t know was that it wouldn’t stay a lie for long. “From what I can tell, my friends have been here, but only one at a time. What are the rules about having the group of them come?”
He frowned. “Normally, we only allow two visitors inside an ICU room.”
