He disappears from my line of sight. The relief is quickly felt, but soon overridden with more pain as I try to pull myself up in bed. The movement draws attention to the left-hand side of my stomach, eyes looking downwards to the source of the throbbing ache.
My head drops back against the pillow, and I take more measured breaths to keep my stomach as still as possible. It all comes rushing back then—the deck of the boat, Emily’s face, her wide eyes. I did it. I stepped in front of that bullet, but I survived. Tears prick the backs of my eyes as memories of the guns and blood add to the sensory overload. Looking past the need to save Emily never occurred to me. I had to make up for my wrongdoing. I didn’t have time to consider all the possibilities of what would happen if I survived. Maybe because I didn’t expect to. It’s all a jumbled mess in my head now.
“You’re awake.”
I lift my head and see Benjamin in the doorway. He lingers there, naked from the waist up.
“Are you okay?” I croak, hoping he is.
He nods, a puzzled look on his face.
“What about Emily? Gabby?” I want to ask about Quinn and Nathan but hold that back for a moment.
“Both fine. Gabby took some scrapes.”
He finally moves towards the bed, standing at the foot and looking over me with his hands in his pockets. I can’t read his expression, but his body is taut, the lines of his muscles tense across his shoulders and down his arms. Even his jaw is tight, as if he’s stopping himself from speaking what he wants to say.
“Have they left?”
“No. They’re all outside.”
I nod as panic starts to wash over me. This stop-start conversation, his distance, his tension. My heartbeat picks up and echoes in the room with the sound of the monitor.
“You need to rest,” he says, starting to turn away. A small part of my heart breaks at the dismissal. After the beach house, I thought we’d be able to survive anything. I lied to him and betrayed him—two of the values he holds most dear—and he accepted it. We were okay before the fight night, or at least on the way to okay, but now. . .
“Benjamin, please? What’s wrong?”
His body stills as he turns back to me. His eyes—there’s no softness in them, no sense of closeness. “Not now, Hope. Rest,” he mutters, leaving the room. Watching him leave does nothing to ease my concerns.
The tears that were stabbing my eyes a moment ago now run a river down my cheeks. It wasn’t meant to be like this. I stepped in front of the gun to make things better, to ensure Emily would live, show my sorrow for the wheels I put in place. And Benjamin and I were okay. We were.
My despair grows as I think back to every movement, every word between us to see if I missed anything. There must be something to show me why he’s acting this way. He’s never been overly romantic or open with his gestures, but he just treated me like I was a stranger he was checking in on out of goodwill.
“Hey, is everything okay?” I look up through watery eyes and see Emily hovering at the door.
I swing my arms up to dash the salty tears from my face, sniffing them back, but the fast movement pulls at my stomach and forces me to slow down.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Just a little pain.” It’s not a lie. I am in pain. A lot of it. She smiles and comes closer, dressed in what looks like my running gear.
“I wanted to see how you feel about some visitors. Quinn and Nate have refused to leave without seeing you.” Have they? I’m surprised, and a little apprehensive.
“Well that sort of depends. Are they going to finish the job I started or bring me a basket of grapes?”
Emily regards me for a moment, her soft features showing the draw the last day has put on her. More evidence of my screw-ups.
“Quinn needs some time. Besides, you sort of pulled an ace with that move of yours. Saving me is probably the one thing that would make Quinn reconsider his actions.” She props herself gently on the end of the bed. “And thank you by the way. You were incredibly brave to do what you did.”
I nod, taking in her words. “Or stupid,” I mutter. “Besides, I didn’t do it for that reason. I couldn’t let you die because of something I did. You might be married to Quinn, but my revenge was aimed at him and Nathan. Never you or Gabby.”
“Or Benjamin,” she offers.
Her hand begins playing with something, and I notice Quinn’s dice lying in her palm. “You saidwasaimed, Hope. Does that mean you’ve reconsidered things?”
“Seeing you all… together, puts things in a different perspective. You’re not what I thought you were. They’re not what I thought they were.”
She’s silent for a while, as if she’s weighing things up in her mind. I don’t know what. It’s never been about her or Gabby. It was always them.
“I have a question for you, Hope.” My brow scrunches, unsure what she would need to know. “Do you still want to hurt either of them?”
