under the supervision of his doctor and a private nurse.
He should be there when you get home."
"Thank you."
Another stretch of quiet filled the line between us, but he didn't hang up.
Finally, I queried, "Are we done?" The question had a double meaning.
I wondered if he caught that or even cared.
"Angus will give you a ride home."
My grip tightened on the phone.
"Good-bye, Gideon."
I hung up and got back to work.
* * *
I checked on Cary the minute I got home.
His bed had been moved aside and propped vertically against the wall to make room for a hospital bed that he could adjust at will.
He was asleep when I came in, his nurse sitting in a new recliner and reading an e-book.
It was the same nurse I'd seen the first night in the hospital, the pretty and exotic-looking one who had trouble taking her eyes off Gideon.
I wondered when he'd spoken to her - if he'd done it himself or sent someone else to do it - and whether she'd agreed for the money or for Gideon or both.
The fact that I was too tired to care one way or another said a lot about my own disconnection.
Maybe there were people out there whose love could survive anything, but mine was fragile.
It needed to be nurtured in order to thrive and grow.
I took a long, hot shower, then crawled into bed.
I pulled my tablet onto my lap and tried to continue my letter to Gideon.
I wanted to express my thoughts and reservations in a mature and cogent way.
I wanted to make it easy for him to understand my reactions to some of the things he did and said, so he could see things from my point of view.
In the end, I didn't have the energy.
I'm not elaborating any more, I wrote instead, because if I keep going, I'll beg.
And if you don't know me well enough to know that you're hurting me, a letter isn't going to fix our problems.
I'm desperate for you.
I'm miserable without you.
I think about the weekend, and the hours we spent together, and I can't think of anything I wouldn't do to have you like that again.
Instead, you're spending time with HER, while I'm alone on my fourth night without you.
Even knowing you've been with her, I want to crawl on my knees for you and beg for scraps.
A touch.
A kiss.
One tender word.
You've made me that weak.
I hate myself like this.
I hate that I need you this much.
I hate that I'm so obsessed with you.
I hate that I love you.
Eva I attached it to an e-mail with the subject line My thoughts - uncensored and hit send.
* * *
"Don't be afraid."
I woke to those three words and utter darkness.
The mattress dipped as Gideon sat beside me, leaning over me with his arms bracketing my body and the blankets between us, a cocoon and barrier that allowed my mind to wake without fear.
The delicious and unmistakable fragrance of his soap and shampoo mixed with the scent of his skin, soothing me along with his voice.
"Angel."
He took my mouth, his lips slanting over mine.
I touched his chest with my fingers, feeling bare skin.
He groaned and stood, bending over me so his mouth stayed connected to mine while he yanked the blankets off and away.
Then he was settling over me, his body nude and hot to the touch.
His ardent mouth moved down my throat, his hands pushing up my camisole so he could get to my breasts.
His lips surrounded my nipple and he suckled, his weight supported by one forearm on the mattress, his other hand pushing between my legs.
He cupped my sex, his fingertip gliding over the satin along the seam of my cleft.
His tongue flickered over my nipple, making it hard and tight, his teeth sinking lightly into the taut flesh.
"Gideon!" Tears slid in rivulets down my temples, the protective numbness I'd felt earlier falling away, leaving me exposed.
I'd been withering without him, the world around me losing its vibrancy, my body hurting from its separation from his.
Having him with me .
touching me .
was like rain in a drought.
My soul unfurled for him, opening wide to soak him in.
I loved him so much.
His hair tickled my skin as his open mouth slid over my cleavage, his chest expanding as he breathed me in, nuzzling and wallowing in my scent.
He captured the tip of my other breast with hard, deep suction.
The pleasure shot through me, echoing in the clenching of my sex against his teasing fingertip.