The more Mitch improved, the grumpier he became. He was still prone to headaches, but was now thinking clearly, which only made him increasingly frustrated at the relative slowness of the rest of his body to mend. Brianna, his one constant visitor, took the brunt of most of his temper.
‘Why the hell can’t I get up and go to the toilet?’ he snapped at her. ‘It’s a man’s basic privilege, to go to the damn toilet. Peeing in a bloody bottle is degrading.’
Brianna tried to hide her grin. Now she knew he was going to make a full recovery, the sight of this strong man temporarily weakened was surprisingly cute. Even when he was being surly and bad-tempered. ‘I’m sure they’ll let you get up soon. I’ll go and see if I can find a nurse.’
‘Thanks,’ he grunted. ‘And while you’re there, you can tell her I’m thirty-four-years old. I’m capable of going to the toilet by myself.’
Laughter bubbled out of her as she went in search of the nurse, who promised she’d come round as soon as she could. Brianna was still smiling as she ambled back to Mitch’s ward. Right up until she rounded the corner and saw him trying to lever his body out of bed. His good arm was clenched tightly to the neighbouring chair, his face contorted with pain. Even as she shouted his name the chair moved and Mitch let out a deep grunt of agony as he ended up with his upper body hanging precariously out of the bed.
Brianna dashed over. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ she fumed, angry with his stupidity. He was a doctor, for goodness sake. He should know better than to try and push his body beyond what it was capable of at the moment.
Carefully she reached her arms under his shoulders and hauled him back against the pillows. As he sank back, his face deathly pale and wreathed with pain, he shut his eyes.
Smoothing his brow, she reassessed her earlier opinion. It was no longer cute to see him like this. It was heartbreaking. Sighing, she sat down on the chair, giving him a moment to recover. Knowing his pride, she had a feeling it wasn’t just the pain that had knocked him sideways. The embarrassment of being so helpless must have added a sharp twist.
When he opened his eyes again, it was to lash out at her. ‘Haven’t you got anything better to do than sit here?’
Though she knew he was suffering, his words were like a slap around the face. ‘Apparently I haven’t.’ Stiffly she stood and picked up her bag. ‘But as my presence here clearly upsets you, I’ll leave you alone.’
Tears stung her cheeks as she hurried out of the ward. She was a stupid woman, at least when it came to Mitch. Why had she been visiting him every day, anyway? He’d told her in no uncertain terms he didn’t want her in his life and yet, since the accident, she’d continued to act as if they were together. She was his work colleague. That was all. It was about time she started acting like one.
* * *
Mitch had plenty of time to mull over his choice of words during the following, lonely week. Even by his own low standards, he knew he’d acted deplorably. He was an expert at pushing away people who got too close, and Brianna was still too close. But that didn’t give him the right to treat her so damn shabbily. How had he thanked her for effectively saving his life? He’d as good as told her to leave him alone. Not surprisingly, she’d taken him at his word and hadn’t visited since. That had been seven long, dreary days ago.
In truth it wasn’t just his desire to thank her and apologise that had him cursing yet another visiting time when she didn’t show up. He missed her, period. He hadn’t realised how much he’d looked forward to her visits until they’d dried up. They had been the highlight of otherwise really crappy days. Visiting time in his now full ward buzzed with the chatter of family and friends calling on his fellow patients, but no one came to see him. All he had for company was a stuffed giraffe and even that was glaring at him from his bedside, reminding him what a bastard he’d been.
He’d had one visit from Margaret and Sally from the office but they hadn’t stayed long. No doubt put off by his foul temper. It wasn’t much to show for thirty-four years.
He had to get fit again and get home.
With that goal in mind, he really put his back into his sessions with the physiotherapist, his desire to get out of hospital far greater than his pain threshold. The hard work seemed to be paying off and he finally managed to haul himself across the ward on a crutch. Not easy when you had a cast on your right arm as well as your right leg.
‘When can I get out of here, Mandy?’ he asked for the hundredth time as he levered himself carefully onto the bed. Though he was shattered from the effort of trying to walk, he was also desperate not to show it.
The physio sighed. ‘Mitch, it doesn’t matter how many times you ask, the answer will still be the same. You can go home when I believe you’re capable of being able to manage by yourself. Unless of course you’re going to reconsider and agree to a carer staying with you?’
‘Somebody I don’t know sleeping in my home? Not bloody likely,’ Mitch answered angrily. ‘I don’t need a nursemaid. I can manage. I’ve got a crutch. I’ll sleep downstairs. Damn it, Mandy, I’m going to discharge myself soon if you won’t let me go.’
‘That would be your privilege but you won’t get my approval until I can see you’re capable of looking after yourself. At the moment you aren’t,’ she stated bluntly.
Mitch cursed under his breath and sat back further on the bed. Damn Mandy, damn them all. He wasn’t going to put up with this much longer. He’d give it until the end of the week. He’d already been in hospital three weeks. It was too much of anybody’s life.
Shifting himself back onto the bed, he caught sight of a slim female figure hovering at the entrance to the ward. The immediate spurt of joy he felt was impossible to ignore or dismiss. He was pathetically grateful to see her.
‘Brianna.’ A broad smile stretched right across his face. ‘I thought I’d scared you off.’
Brianna had debated long and hard about whether she should come to see Mitch again. In the end her desire to see him and check up on his progress had overtaken her pride. The genuine warmth of his smile was a welcome reward. God, she was a sucker where he was concerned.
‘It would appear I don’t scare off that easily,’ she replied, walking towards the bed and taking a moment to appraise him. He looked a lot better. The bruises were fading and his face less pale. His new short hairstyle suited him, emphasising his lean cheekbones. ‘How are you?’
‘Feeling ready to go home, but apparently I can’t because I’m not mobile enough yet.’ He looked up at her, his face a picture of determination. ‘But bugger it, I can’t stay here much longer. It’s doing my head in. I know the best place for me to recuperate is at home.’
‘Would Edna keep an eye on you? Make sure you were okay?’
He snorted. ‘I don’t need an old lady looking after me. Edna has enough trouble looking after herself. No, I’ll be fine.’
‘How about if you come and stay with me until you’re on your feet?’ The words flew from her mouth before she’d had a chance to consider what she was offering. Have him live with her, in her apartment? Was she some sort of masochist?
‘What?’
His strangled response, together with the look of horror on his face, made Brianna wish to God she’d kept her mouth firmly shut. It had been her heart talking, certainly not her head. Mortified, she stared at the floor. When it failed to do as she prayed and swallow her up, she drew in a shaky breath. ‘You know what, forget I said anything.’ She threw the windsurfing magazine she was clutching onto the bed. ‘Here, I brought this for you, to help relieve the boredom. I hope you manage to escape soon.’ Legs rigid with humiliation, she stalked away from his bed.
‘Brianna, I’m sorry. Please, don’t go.’
She wanted to ignore him, wanted to get away so she could lick her wounds in private, but the plea in his voice stopped her. When she slowly turned round, his eyes were full of apology.
‘It seems upsetting you has become a habit of mine,’ he said quietly. ‘One I need to break. God knows, you don’t deserve it.’ He paused and ran a hand across his shaven head. ‘I was surprised by your offer, that’s all.’
‘You were horrified.’
Mitch flushed slightly. ‘Okay, yes, I was horrified, but not for the reason you think,’ he added hastily. ‘It’s not the thought of staying with you. God knows, anything would be an improvement on this place.’
‘Wow, thank you. You really know how to make a woman feel needed.’
Mitch threw up his good hand in despair. ‘Hell, I’m making a real hash of this, aren’t I?’
Brianna could only agree. Still, it made a change to see him on the back foot. She watched as he sagged back against his pillow, sighing deeply. When he raised his head to look at her, it was the first time she’d seen his brown eyes look quite so unguarded.
‘I’ve never had anyone look after me, Brianna,’ he admitted slowly. ‘I’m used to taking care of myself. For me to have to admit I need help is incredibly hard.’ He gave her a rueful smile. ‘But here I am, in plaster casts from head to foot and as helpless as a bloody baby. I don’t have the luxury of being proud. You made a very kind offer and I’m really grateful. Hell, I might not show it, but I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me.’ His voice was as serious as the look in his deep brown eyes. ‘You saved my life, Brianna. Your visits also saved my sanity. I didn’t realise quite how much until you stopped coming.’
Brianna shifted awkwardly. She wasn’t sure she liked seeing him so humble. ‘Yes, well . . .’ she trailed off, unsure how to respond. To say it was nothing would be totally untrue. To tell him he meant everything to her, that she’d done what she had because she loved him, would be received with equal mixtures of horror and pity. ‘I did what I could, for a friend,’ she settled on, hoping it was the right response.
It seemed to be, because he smiled. ‘Well, as your friend, would it be okay for me to come and stay with you for a short while, until I can get rid of these damn casts? It should only be for a week or so.’
Brianna nodded, wondering what on earth she was letting herself in for. It was going to be so hard to have him stay with her but not touch him, not kiss him. But she’d gone from losing him as a lover, to almost losing him full stop. Having him as a friend was better than not having him at all.