worked noiselessly for a second. “I tried to come sooner. I promise,” she whispered.
My heart was in my throat, but I accepted her understatement—worrying? More like outright terror—with merely a nod. No way was I about to tell her how I’d felt like I was going crazy with no contact from her.
She’d think I was nuts, and while I was starting to wonder, I didn’t want to freak her out. And if she thought I was weird, obsessive or something, maybe she’d ghost me for real. I couldn’t deal with no contact from her. Couldn’t handle it.
Jesus, what the fuck was wrong with me?
Clasping her hand in one of mine, I twisted so I could lower my backpack to the floor.
She frowned, staring at the bag as, one-handed, I tried to unfasten the zipper.
“Use both hands,” she muttered, but my fingers tightened around hers.
I wasn’t letting her go.
Not yet.
No fucking way.
It was awkward until she pressed her hand to the bag and helped me. When I pulled out a phone, new and still with the protective plastic film on it, she stared at it, then me, and held out her palm to receive it.
“Thank you,” she murmured, and I released a shaky breath loaded with relief.
“No arguing?” I’d kind of expected to have to force this on her, but on day six, feeling like I was on the brink of being certifiable, I’d had to act. Had to do something proactive, and getting her a phone had felt like the way to go. When this was over, I’d thought, it would never be able to happen again.
“No arguing,” she confirmed. A tremor racked her, and she muttered, “I really should go back to bed. I just... This is the first day I could stand, and I had to come to you.”
The chaos in my head felt like it was drowning me. I was joyous at being with her, terrified at her having walked all the way she had to get to me. But relieved too.
The cacophony was only drowned out by the heavy throb of my heart that deafened me.
“Are you cold?” I asked, and I wasn’t sure what made me ask it, but I just needed to know.
She shivered. “Yes. Have been since a week ago.”
It was crazy. Could the cold I’d been feeling be tied to hers?
No.
That wasn’t possible.
Right?
But none of this felt like it could be possible. Maybe I really was losing my goddamn mind?
It didn’t stop me from thinking of her though. From inquiring, “I know you have to get home, and I’ll take you there myself. I have the money for a cab. But I want you to come into the pool.”
She shook her head. “No, Adam,” she whispered weakly, “I don’t have the energy.”
“You don’t have to swim. I promise. Just, please, get into the water.”
There were bruises under her eyes, and those bronze orbs looked haunted, even as she stared at me with a longing she couldn’t feign.
I hated that we’d have to part for her to go into the women’s changing room, but I was determined to get her into the water.
I didn’t understand what the fuck was happening here, but I knew she’d feel better the second she was in the pool because I had. I’d felt better whenever I was in the shower too.
Reaching out, I rubbed my thumb over her thin cheek. She’d already been on the skinny side, her muscles from her training a little too prominent, but she didn’t have an inch to spare now.
I wanted to care for her, wanted to fill her belly with food, but my options were limited.
She released a shaky breath and muttered, “I do miss the pool.”
Knowing how much she loved swimming, I could see how she’d miss it after a week away.
“Just take it slow in there. Don’t get changed too quickly.”
“I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” she mumbled.
“I can buy one from the store here.”
She winced. “You’re spending too much on me.”
“I’d spend more if I could,” I returned, meaning every word.
Our eyes connected, and the depth of how much I’d missed her sank into my bones.
It was like a ghoul, clinging to me, a specter I couldn’t see, could only feel.
The week had worn on me, twisted me, churned me into a ragged mess, but now? Here? I could breathe.
And I needed to care for her.
Needed to make her feel better.
The urgency inside me was powerful, enough to charge me into getting to my feet, and heading over to