Why is that the thing I focus on?
Pink tints his cheeks as he rubs the nape of his neck. “Yeah, I was. At first I thought it was because of the gummies?—”
My heart melts. “I loved the gummies,” I admit softly.
More than loved. The gesture meant everything to me. It made me feel things I shouldn’t be feeling for my boss.
His eyes soften. “I’m glad, but when I didn’t hear anything I knew something was wrong. I’m glad I flew home early?—”
I gasp. “Grayson! You can’t do that! You’ll be fined, won’t you?”
He deadpans, “If I hadn’t turned up when I did you could have died of dehydration.”
I scoff. “That’s slightly dramatic, don’t we think?”
“Those were the words I heard from your doctor’s mouth!”
“Oh. Right.”
I wince. He doesn’t need to know, but he just proved his point. I felt delirious when I first came in. I can’t remember much but the mortification of Grayson finding me in my silk pajamas on the bathroom floor, heaving and shaking.
Then there was the paramedic that not only pissed me off but Grayson too. And I feel like it’s hard to piss him off. He’s like a puppy; he loves everyone.
Although, I’m glad he was pissed off. Even delirious, my body clocked how attractive Grayson was in that moment, growling and swearing as he stood up for me.
I scroll through my messages. As I suspected, there’s dozens from Layla, more from my mom—who threatened to call the cops on me for a welfare check—followed by a slew of messages about a dispatcher who wouldn’t send one to me because I was a grown woman.
I roll my eyes at that. Why can’t the system work with us and not against us? The one time my mom truly does need to send a police officer for a welfare check, and they don’t?
Thank goodness for Grayson.
My thumb hovers over my mom’s contact. I know I have to call her, but the question is, do I call or do I walk down the hall to the big C ward and explain everything?
Sighing deeply, I throw my sheets off my bed. If I call her and say I’ve been admitted to the same hospital as her, there will be nothing that will stop that woman from reaching me, and she can’t be up and walking around.
Dr. Stewart also said no stress while she’s admitted for part of the next stage of the treatment. But I can’t keep this from her. It’s unlike me not to answer my phone for two days, especially while she’s in the hospital.
She probably called Layla and they both realized I had gone missing.
Fuck, what if Layla is driving back from her family vacation right now?
One quick glance at our text thread confirms that she did in fact get in her car and start driving.
Damn it.
She deserves good things. She wanted a week with her parents before she left for Germany for a year. And I ruined that special moment.
“Bella, I can see the clogs turning in your brain. Are you okay?” Grayson asks, coming to sit on the edge of the bed. His eyes track the white-knuckled grip on my phone. “Do you want me to call friends and family? I would have done it sooner, but your phone was dead.”
“It’s okay. And no, I should do it. They’ll want to speak to me to make sure I’m fine anyways.”
He points over his shoulder. “I’ll go get us something to eat. You should be able to keep food down by now.”
“Thanks, Grayson. You don’t have to do that.”
He sends me a small smile as he leaves and I can’t help but flop back on the bed.
He must be too good to be true. Are men genuinely that nice? I thought my father was one of them. I thought his and my mother’s love was solid and real and a fairy tale, but then one hard bump in the road and he leaves.
