Liar Liar - Donna Alam Page 0,133

better in them than he does.’

‘You really are a piece of work.’

‘It takes one to know one, Heidi,’ he retorts with a cheeky wink. ‘He’s all yours. Try to be nice to him.’

As I watch him saunter down the hallway, the door to Remy’s room opens as the two nurses slip out, pink-cheeked and giggling. One turns to follow Rhett’s direction, the other’s gaze collides with mine, causing the colour in her cheeks to deepen.

Girl, I know.

Gripping the doorhandle, I fix a smile on my face. If the ills of the world can be solved by salt, I’ll stick to sweat and seawater because I’ve cried enough tears.

I’m just going to love him from here on in.

36

Rose

I spent the next thirty-six hours on a chair next to Remy’s bed. No way was I leaving him alone. I also figured it was the best use of company time. In order to lead the company, Remy needed to be well. In order to be well, he needed rest, and he was more inclined to rest while I was near. Though I will admit he wasn’t thrilled with my company when I told the next doctor who came into his room that this was his second concussion this year. The news created a flutter; there were questions, warnings of traumatic brain injuries, talk of keeping him in the hospital for a longer observation period, and mutterings about the odds of the occurrence of aspiration pneumonia, almost as though it were some kind of side order dish. They spoke in English, maybe garnering that they’d get the unvarnished truth from me, rather than an imperious mouthful and denunciations of charlatan and impostor from the grump in the bed.

‘You fuss too much,’ Remy complains, his eyes appealing to the ceiling for deliverance.

‘And you’re a very bad patient. Do you think this is my idea?’ I ask, my hand flying out to indicate the wheelchair by the side of the bed. The wheelchair Rhett’s currently sitting in.

‘My legs work perfectly.’

‘So does your mouth, unfortunately,’ I reply in an undertone.

‘Not even two days together and you two are already bickering.’ The wheelchair wheels squeak against the hospital floor as Rhett attempts a spin in the tight space. ‘Are you sure you’re cut out for spending more time together?’

‘I can’t wait to get her alone to kiss every inch of her skin. To taste her from her lips to the tips of her toes as I whisper my want of her at all the places in between. Does that answer your question?’

‘A little too graphically,’ he retorts with a twist to his mouth.

‘It must be the concussion speaking.’ Remy grins.

‘You don’t need a wheelchair. You need a muzzle.’ My cheeks sting, no doubt pink.

‘I don’t need a wheelchair, period.’

‘Well, according to the hospital’s insurance policy, you do. So get your cutie-patootie butt in that thing, and let’s get this show on the road.’

Rhett stands. ‘I think I was just a bit sick in my mouth.’

A nurse wheels Remy to the entrance of the hospital to where Everett has brought the Range Rover around. I try not to hover around him as he climbs into the car, but honestly, it’s hard.

‘Got everything?’ I ask, ready to close the passenger side door.

‘I think I left my dignity in there.’ With a sniff, his gaze lifts above my head to the hospital building.

‘Remy, I love you. You’re probably going to get sick of me saying this because the thought of you—’ I stop abruptly. He needs to hear this less than I need to say it. I think he’s pretty sick of being reminded of his own mortality. I take a deep breath. ‘So, I love you. I’ll thank the heavens every day.’ He reaches out to where I’m gripping the door, his fingers lightly brushing mine. ‘But I have to tell you, you are a pain in the ass.’ Eyes narrowed, he can’t seem to stop his reluctant grin. ‘Love you!’ I slam the door shut before he can say anything else.

‘Have you had any more thoughts?’ At the back of the car, I keep my voice purposely low as Everett loads Remy’s bag into the trunk.

‘About what?’

‘You know—the thing we were talking about. Remy’s so-called accident.’

‘Did we have a conversation about this?’ His expression is blank as he reaches up and presses a button, the tailgate gliding closed.

‘You know we did. Out in the hallway.’

‘I think your imagination is playing tricks on you. Remy slipped from a passerelle with

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