“Tom should be worrying about himself. Just because he’s been moved out of the ICU doesn’t mean he’s in the clear yet.”
Laying out three plates, I dump cutlery and napkins on the side then declare it done. Luke immediately dives in to begin rolling three over-stuffed tortillas as I circle the counter to approach Ember.
Her head lowers when I rest my chin on top of it, arms loosely curled around her still-trembling body. Luke bounds out of the kitchen to begin munching on the sofa, granting us a private second.
“Tom is going to be fine. The BOLO will go out to our international partners without a hitch. Gracie’s parents got what they wanted. There isn’t anything else for you to do right now but heal.”
“I’m doing everything I should be.” Her flat words sound so despondent. “My body just keeps failing me.”
“It’s been through a lot, Em. Cut yourself some slack.”
“You were the one yelling at my specialist not so long ago.”
“I’m allowed to be frustrated on your behalf.” I peck her loosely braided hair. “You need to be focused on looking after yourself and getting the seizures under control.”
“They’ll never be under control, Hy. This is it for me.”
I fucking hate the note of defeat in her voice. It rams a sharp, determined dagger into my gut, slashing me wide open. If it’s the only thing I can do, I’ll make this easier for her. She doesn’t have to manage her diagnosis alone.
“Then we focus on getting you into the best shape possible,” I say decisively. “We could even get a second opinion or tryalternative medicine. You don’t have to live in fear of the next attack.”
Slipping a finger beneath her pointed pixie chin, I tilt her sad face upwards to drop a kiss along her temple. Ember shivers in my arms, looking younger and more afraid than I’ve ever seen her.
She’s changing. Softening. Gradually letting us see the hidden sides of herself that weren’t permitted to exist for the last six years. The fact that she feels safe enough to be herself now means the world to me.
“Go choose your movie. I’ll bring the food over.”
“I need to take my medication.” She sighs.
“I’ve got it. Sit down, Em. My boy came to see you more than me.”
“Well, I am the most awesome out of the both of us.”
“Yeah, yeah. Shift your ass, baby.”
Ember strains to peck my cheek then gingerly hops down from the breakfast bar to join Luke. I watch her go, for once not studying the delectable curves of her tight body but worrying about the weight she’s lost and the pallor of her skin.
She needs to eat more.
I’ll pin her down and force-feed her if needed.
With a generous heap of fajitas wrapped, I deposit the huge plateful on Ember’s lap. She’s curled up back in her original spot but with Luke snuggled next to her now. The pair are animatedly debating three different movie choices.
I fill my own plate then take the other end of the sectional, sliding my feet beneath Ember’s blanket. She smiles when I tangle them with hers, needing to feel her touch. To my pride, she’s nibbling one giant fajita while Luke’s devoured his already.
“What are we watching?” I take a big bite.
“Still debating.” Ember shrugs.
“She likes the villains.” Luke wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I thought girls were supposed to like the good guys.”
“They’re boring,” Ember argues.
“But the baddies are bad for a reason!” he exclaims.
“It isn’t always that simple.” Ember pokes him in the side. “Villains have an origin story for a reason. Most are just misunderstood and deserve a bit of forgiveness.”
He frowns at the TV, visibly confused. “Then why does everyone hate them?”
