Internal Fixation - Tawdra Kandle Page 0,15

like being cocooned in the most perfect fluffy iron-clad quilt ever made.

But as my feelings for him became more complicated and less clear, I found that it was harder to simply melt into him the way I always had.

As if sensing this, Noah drew back and frowned down at me. “Emma, what we were talking about before—about the reporters and keeping a lower profile—you know it doesn’t mean that I don’t want to see you, right? It doesn’t mean I don’t—love you.” He half stumbled over the words that we’d been saying to each other for months, both of us secure in the knowledge that we adored each other as best friends. “But what people say about us is the one thing I can’t easily control. The only way I can protect you is by making sure others don’t see things, misunderstand them and then come to faulty conclusions. You understand that, right?”

“Of course, I do, silly.” I stretched up my hand to tap him on the nose. It was a far reach. “I’m not that insecure, Noah. I trust you. I know you’ll always be honest with me.”

He nodded. “Always.”

For a long moment, he simply stood, his hands still resting on my shoulders. I was half-afraid, half-hoping that maybe he was going to do something that would change everything between us . . . but in the end, he simply exhaled, dropped his hands, and pivoted to the door.

“Talk to you soon, Em. Sleep tight. Enjoy that bed.”

I smiled and waved, not trusting my voice to work. I stood at the door, watching him jog over to his truck, swing in and start her up. A few seconds later, his taillights disappeared around the bend in my drive.

With a sigh, I carefully shut my door and locked it, leaning against the sturdy wood as I took in my house. It was silent now, after a long day full of voices and footsteps and laughter. There were still boxes and wrapping paper and piles of things that hadn’t yet found their places. I had some work I had to do here and there, small touch-ups and refinements. The cabin wasn’t quite perfect. Not yet.

But it was mine. It was mine to turn up the music and dance in as I dug through a suitcase to find pajamas. Mine to turn on the water—oh, praise be for faucets after over a year of using bottled water for everything!—when I brushed my teeth and washed my face. Mine as I turned off all of the lights, grateful for the ability to do it with the flick of a few switches.

I was alone, yes, but I was happily in my own space that, with help, I’d created for myself. And tonight, that was everything I needed.

3

Emma

“Donnie Crew, what’s a robust specimen of mankind like you doing in my hospital?” I paused in the doorway of the hospital room, pretending to glare at the man who was perched on the edge of the bed.

Donnie grinned back at me. “Just taking up space, Emma. You know me, I can’t get enough of this place!” He chuckled and waved his hand. “Come in, come in. Don’t linger in the doorway, or the fairies will get you. At least, that’s what my grammy used to say.”

I strolled inside, tucking my tablet into the crook of my arm. “My gran says the same thing. The fairies and the wee people live in the in-between spaces, like thresholds and window sills.”

“Must be something to it, then. Sit down and stay awhile.” Donnie pointed to the chair next to the bed. “I’m just here for the night. I’ve been in remission long enough, and I’m healthy enough, that I qualified for what that Dr. Alison calls an exciting and promising new study. Maybe something to get rid of this cancer once and for all!”

“I heard about that.” I nodded. “And I’m so excited that your numbers look good enough to make you a candidate.”

“I probably wouldn’t even be here to be a candidate if it wasn’t for you and Deacon.” Donnie’s smile faded slightly. “That day, I was all set to give up. I was ready to call it quits and march through death’s door. And just think, if I had given up that day, or if you two had given up on me, I wouldn’t be here now to find out if I can beat this thing completely.”

I reached out to take his hand. “Dr. Girard and I didn’t