lip she caught his attention. He saw tears marking her cheeks. Unable to stop himself, he captured her face between his hands. He’d promised never to kiss her again, but what he saw in her in that moment was more than he could resist. He seized her mouth in a deep kiss, claimed it in a way that spoke of hunger and desperate need. She put up a token resistance before she welcomed his arms and wrapped her own around his torso. He couldn’t get enough of her, the taste, the warmth, the feel of her.
When she broke away, pushing against his shoulders, it was all he could do not to fight to keep her in his arms.
“Nick, no, this can’t happen.”
All the fight had gone out of him. He hung his head. “I’m sorry.” Already he’d broken his word. Already he was using her in ways he promised himself he never would.
She scooted back from him and wiped the back of her hand against her mouth. “You asked me to be your friend.”
“I know…it won’t happen again. I swear it, Em. Please. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “I…don’t think I should come to the house again.”
“No,” he protested. “Please.” She had no idea how much it cost him to beg.
“I can’t have you kissing me.”
“It won’t happen again.”
“You said that before.”
“I know…” He did his best to compose himself. “You need to do what’s best for you. I’m sorry, Em. Truly sorry. If you don’t want anything more to do with me, I’ll accept that.”
After what felt like several minutes but was only a few seconds, she stood, returned to the kitchen, gathered her things, and left.
Nick heard the screen door slam closed and buried his face in his hands. He had no one to blame but himself.
I’d spent every available minute at the hospital. At first the nurses would allow me at Mark’s bedside for only five minutes at a time. Then one of the doctors noticed how Mark’s heart rate and blood pressure improved when I was in the room. He changed the orders so that I could be with Mark as often as I wanted.
I wanted every minute with him, conscious or not.
One would think I’d grow restless and bored sitting at Mark’s bedside, but I didn’t. I knew my presence made a difference. He remained in critical condition, but I didn’t need the medical staff to tell me he was improving. While he remained unconscious I could sense he was slowly coming out of it. He moved his fingers a couple times, jerking motions that seemed involuntary, but I couldn’t be sure. Once I saw his eyelashes flutter as if he were trying to open his eyes. I reported both incidents to the staff and it was noted.
Sitting at his bedside now, I read to him, believing with all my heart that Mark could hear me. It was a book by Vince Flynn, an author we’d both enjoyed in the past. Once we discovered that we often read the same books, it’d become our habit to discuss them and the authors.
After about an hour of reading my voice grew tired and my throat was dry. I went in search of water. When I returned to Mark’s cubicle, I sensed right away that something was different. It didn’t take long to realize Mark’s eyes were open.
A smile burst over my face. I grabbed hold of his hand and kissed it. “Hey,” I said, tears clouding my eyes. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”
He attempted a smile, although he was too weak to fully manage it.
“I need to go tell the staff. I’ll be right back.”
He twisted his head, indicating he didn’t want me to go.
“Okay, I’ll stay right here. I’ve been here awhile, you know.”
I read the question in his eyes.
“You were in the States before anyone let me know. Someone’s going to answer for that,” I said heatedly.
He blinked and again with the weak half-smile.
“I know, I know we’re not related and there was no legal obligations for anyone to keep me informed. You should also know I’m not accepting that as an excuse.” By the time I finished my short tirade Mark’s eyes were closed and his hand was slack in my own. He was out again and I could only assume he was asleep.
When I updated the nurse that Mark had opened his eyes, I could tell from her expression that this was the breakthrough they’d been waiting for.
Later that afternoon