"It's okay," I tell him, shooting him a reassuring smile. "You're making some amazing progress, you know?"
His lips thin into a grim smile and his eyes flick away from me.
"Yeah, everyone keeps telling me that, but I feel like everything is moving so slowly. I just want to get back to normal."
"You realise that it usually takes a while for people to get back to any sort of normalcy after they've spent so long in a coma, right? That's why everyone is so shocked and impressed by your progress," I state, resting my book in my lap and gently placing my hand atop his. "Trust me, you're doing really well. Don't be so hard on yourself."
His eyes drop to where our hands are now connected and then they lift back to my face, and he watches me for a few moments as a crease forms between his brows.
"I also want to apologise for what happened earlier."
My heart immediately drops into my stomach and I pull my hand away from his.
"It's fine," I mutter, resting back in the chair and pulling my eyes away from him.
"It's not fine, Rory. I'm sorry for saying anything, but when I saw those bruises that you're covering, I was consumed by anger. I wasn't thinking clearly, and I should've taken a different approach."
I scoff and shake my head.
"There was no need for you to question anything at all, so no, you shouldn't have taken a different approach. You shouldn't have said anything at all."
"I can't just sit here and pretend like I didn't see them," he says. "There's clearly something happening because you covered them up and then you freaked out when I mentioned them."
"It was an accident and it's nothing to worry about."
He stares at me with a heap of emotions swimming in his eyes and shakes his head.
"How can I not worry when I know that you're lying?"
My chest grows tight, and I curl my fingers inward, pressing my nails into the palm of my hand as I try to regain control of myself and my emotions that are fighting their way to the surface.
"What happened?" he asks softly.
I shake my head and stand from the chair, squeezing the paperback between my hands.
"It was just an accident."
He raises his brows as his eyes burn into mine, seemingly searching for any indication that I might be lying.
When I take a step away from his bed, he frowns.
"Please don't leave," he says, stopping me in my tracks. "I'll drop it for now. I won't ask any more questions and I'll take your word for it, but please, stay."
I glance back and forth between his tortured expression and the door, and after a minute or two, I sigh, my shoulders dropping, and I sit back down in the chair beside him.
"I'm sorry if you feel like I'm bombarding you with questions, but I just want to make sure you're safe, and I can't bear the thought that someone might be hurting you."
I open my book, giving myself something to focus on and I shake my head.
"I'm safe, and I'm not being hurt, so let your mind rest."
"Okay… but I swear to God, if I see any more bruises on you Rory, I will find a way out of this hospital bed, hunt down the fucker that's putting his hands on you and gut him."
Despite the fear that trickles through my body at his statement, my lips lift into a small smile that I cover with the book in my hands.
Hearing a man sound so determined and speak so viciously would usually terrify me but knowing that he's like this because he wants to protect me has a small amount of warmth spread through my chest and sends a tingle down my spine.
"Tell me about the book," he says, a small smirk appearing on his face as his eyes drop to the cover.
