Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 51507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 258(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 258(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
I couldn’t remember much about what had gone on yesterday—at least not after we had had sex—but I knew I was in a hospital. I recognized the airiness of the wardrobe. My arm and one leg were immobilized by casts, and my head hurt like a bitch—worse than any migraine I had ever had. I felt as if it were trying to split open, like I was about to birth some sort of alien from a sci-fi movie.
The ride up to a permanent room was uneventful, and Anthony stayed in my line of vision the entire time, even crowding into the elevator and putting his hand on my elbow so that I could feel him there as well as see him. “You’re going to be all right, baby.”
I was learning not to nod my head. “I know.” My eyelids closed all by themselves, and the next time they opened, someone was putting a breakfast tray in front of me.
As soon as I opened my eyes, Anthony was right there, standing next to me with a small smile on his face. “I took the liberty of ordering for you when they asked a couple hours ago. I hope you’re hungry.”
There was enough food on that tray to feed an army, and I had literally no interest in any of it. “You can eat it,” I pronounced, my eyelids fluttering closed.
“I want you to eat something, Raychel. You need to feed your body in order for it to heal.”
“I’m not hungry,” I stated flatly.
Anthony brought the tray closer to me, saying in a no-nonsense tone, “I didn’t ask you if you were hungry, Raychel. I want you to pick out at least three things from this tray that you’re going to eat for me. I’ll feed you, but you’re going to eat every bite.”
I opened my eyes for the sole purpose of glaring at him, not that it did any good. It never did. Sighing exasperatedly, I tried to sit up further in the bed, slow painful process that it was. The tray didn’t look any better sitting up than it had before. It was overladen with food: pancakes, waffles, syrup, butter, biscuits, yogurt, canned peaches, toast, orange juice, milk and coffee.
“I’ll have the yogurt, the juice, and the milk,” I croaked.
* * *
Anthony
It wasn’t what I would have picked for her, but at least it got something into her stomach. She was on some high-powered pain relievers, and I didn’t want her to have to contend with a sour stomach on top of everything else. Raychel was trying to reach for what she’d asked for, but I got there first—not that it was much of a contest, and opened everything for her, sticking straws in the beverage containers, then scooping up a spoonful of the creamy strawberry yogurt and holding it up to her mouth.
“You don’t have to feed me, you know.”
I knew by the tone of her voice that she was trying to frown, but her face was too swollen to show it.
“I know I don’t. I want to.” I put the spoon into her mouth as gently as I could, but firmly enough that she couldn’t refuse it.
I wanted her to finish the whole thing, but she started to avoid the spoon when I was only halfway through, but she did finish the juice and most of the milk. Seconds later, she was back asleep.
I didn’t want to leave her, but I did want her to have some of her own things around her. Those hospital johnnies weren’t the most comfortable of things. At least I’d been able to get the hospital to give her a private room, but only by giving them my platinum card number first. I had no idea whether or not she had health insurance, but somehow I doubted it. Waitresses rarely did, in my experience.
I wanted to go to her apartment and grab her some pajamas and a robe and some slippers, her toothbrush, things she would want when she got to feeling a little better. But the hospital wouldn’t give me her keys, or access to any of her personal belongings. I found out while I was arguing with the head nurse that I was the second name on her emergency call list. She hadn’t updated it and her father was the first name, which only added to the stress of working with the hospital.
The situation was going to drive me crazy, but there was little I could do about being second in line—for now. I felt a punch to the gut as I looked at Raychel as she slept, then made up my mind that I was going to go get her things. Slipping out of the room without waking her, I flagged down the first CNA I found, asking her to tell Raychel that I’d just stepped out and would be back very shortly if she woke while I was gone and asked about me.