Still Me (Me Before You #3) - Jojo Moyes Page 0,42

with me. Go shopping or something.’

‘But you’re only here till Monday. I don’t want to do anything without you.’

‘I’m good for nothing, Lou.’

He looked like he could have punched a wall, if he’d only had the strength to raise his fist.

I walked two blocks to a newsstand and bought an armful of newspapers and magazines. I then bought myself a decent coffee and a bran muffin, and a plain white bagel for when he might want to eat something.

‘Supplies,’ I said, dropping them on my side of the bed. ‘Might as well just burrow in.’ And that was how we spent the day. I read every single section of the New York Times, including the baseball reports. I put the Do Not Disturb sign on the door, watched him dozing and waited for colour to return to his face.

Maybe he’ll feel better in time for us to have a walk in daylight.

Maybe we could grab a drink in the hotel bar.

Sitting up would be good.

Okay, so maybe he’ll be better tomorrow.

At nine forty-five when I turned off the television chat show, pushed all the newspapers off the bed and burrowed down under the duvet, the only part of my body still touching his was my fingers, entwined with his at the tips.

He woke feeling a little brighter on Sunday. I think by then there was so little in his system that there was nothing left to come out. I bought him some clear soup and he ate it tentatively and pronounced himself well enough to go for a walk. Twenty minutes later we jogged back and he locked himself into the bathroom. He was really angry then. I tried to tell him it was okay but that just seemed to make him angrier. There’s not much that’s more pathetic than a six-foot-four man-mountain trying to be furious while he can barely lift a glass of water.

I did leave him for a bit then because my disappointment was starting to show. I needed to walk the streets and remind myself that this wasn’t a sign, it didn’t mean anything, and that it was easy to lose perspective when you’d had no sleep and had been stuck for forty-eight hours with a gastro-intestinally challenged man and a bathroom with deeply inadequate soundproofing.

But the fact that it was now Sunday left me heartbroken. I was back at work tomorrow. And we had done none of the things I’d planned. We hadn’t gone to a ball game or on the Staten Island ferry. We hadn’t climbed to the top of the Empire State or walked the High Line arm in arm. That night we sat in bed and he ate some boiled rice I had picked up from a sushi restaurant and I ate a grilled chicken sandwich that tasted of nothing.

‘On the right track now,’ he murmured, as I pulled the cover over him.

‘Great,’ I said. And then he was asleep.

I couldn’t face another evening of scrolling through my phone so I got up quietly, left him a note and headed out. I felt miserable and oddly angry. Why had he eaten something that had given him food poisoning? Why couldn’t he make himself better quicker? He was a paramedic after all. Why couldn’t he have picked a nicer hotel? I walked down Sixth Avenue, my hands thrust deep into my pockets, the traffic blaring around me, and before long I found myself headed towards home.

Home.

With a start, I realized that was how I now thought of it.

Ashok was under the awning, chatting to another doorman, who moved away as soon as I approached.

‘Hey, Miss Louisa. Aren’t you meant to be with that boyfriend of yours?’

‘He’s sick,’ I said. ‘Food poisoning.’

‘You’re kidding me. Where is he now?’

‘Sleeping. I just … couldn’t face sitting in that room for another twelve hours.’ I felt suddenly, oddly, close to tears. I think Ashok could see it because he motioned me to come in. In his little porter’s room he boiled a kettle and made me a mint tea. I sat at his desk and sipped it, while he peered out now and then to make sure Mrs De Witt wasn’t around to accuse him of slacking. ‘Anyway,’ I said, ‘why are you on duty? I thought it was the night guy.’

‘He’s sick too. My wife is super mad at me right now. She’s meant to be at one of her library meetings but we don’t have anybody to look after the kids. She says if I