Chapter 32
Thirty-Two
JULIAN
“It’s normal for her to be in and out of consciousness,” Dr. Asgood says.
She’s standing with me beside my wife, filling me in on test results.
“She has a horrible staph infection, and it’s gone septic.
Meaning, it’s through her whole body. So, we’re running a broad spectrum of antibiotics in her IV along with continuous fluids.
Her blood pressure is lower than I’d like.
I want to see a big improvement in the next four hours.
If that doesn’t happen, we’ll take her to the hospital. ”
I nod, all the words floating through my head.
“If she’d gone even one more day without being found, she might not have survived, Julian.”
I pull my hand down my face and swallow hard. “Fuck.”
“You should go home, and—”
“I’m not leaving.”
She nods and pats me on the shoulder. “I figured as much. I’ll be back in an hour to check her vitals.”
When she’s gone, I sink into the chair at Natasha’s side. She’s not in a coma, but she’s sleeping almost constantly. We’ve been here for about four hours, and she’s hardly surfaced. When she does, she babbles and doesn’t make much sense. She keeps thinking that I’ll hurt her.
And who the fuck can blame her?
“Hey, sweetheart.” I kiss her temple and reach for the bowl of cool water and the washcloth, get it wet, and then gently smooth the cloth over her face, cleaning her up a bit. I wish I could sit in a bath with her, but she’s too sick.
Sponge baths it is.
“Sorry,” she whispers, and my eyes fly to hers. She’s not looking at me.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I’m the one who failed you. Failed us. And we can talk about all of that later. For now, you just rest and get better.”
“Missed you,” she whispers. “Don’t leave me.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” She’s not pulling away or saying no anymore, and that’s a huge relief, but she might still be delirious. When she’s better, she might tell me to go fuck myself.
And she probably should.
Because I don’t deserve her.
I’ll also never let her go.
Three days later, we’re at the mansion, and my wife is in our bed, where she belongs. She’s still sleeping well over twenty-two hours a day, but she’s still fighting the last of the infection.
I haven’t been able to ask her about anything that’s happened over the past few weeks yet. She honestly hasn’t stayed awake long enough for much of a conversation.
But I’ve spent a lot of time holding her. Kissing her head, her cheeks. Her hands are healing, but the wrist is going to take a while before it’s as good as new again.
“You need to sleep.”
When I glance down, I see my wife looking up at me. She doesn’t look afraid, but she also isn’t looking at me with love.
Not like before.
“You’re so tired, Julian. I’m fine. Lie down.”
I shake my head, but she reaches for my hand with her injured one and holds onto my pointer finger.
“Get in this bed, Julian.”
Fuck, I love it when she gets bossy.
Finally, I strip down to my boxer briefs and slide between the sheets with her, but I’m afraid to pull her into my arms.
“I don’t know what to do,” I admit with a whisper. “I don’t know what you want.”
“I’m going to yell at you when I’m better,” she replies, making me smile, but she doesn’t smile back. “But right now, I need my husband. Just be my husband, and we’ll figure the rest out later.”
Gently, I gather my wife into my arms and cradle her close, pressing my lips to her hair. I was able to put her in a bath this morning and wash her hair, getting her the rest of the way clean, and I think it helped her feel better.
“I have so much to say to you,” I whisper in her ear. “Are you awake enough to talk?”
“Yeah.”
“I need you to know how fucking sorry I am for everything that’s happened.”
She sighs and nuzzles her sweet nose against my chest. I should feel relieved that she’s with me, but I’m still on edge.
There’s so much to resolve between us. So much to talk over.
“Jesus, I feel horrible.”
“You should.” She shrugs when I blink down at her. “But that’s for another day. When I’m better, you can just take me back to the m-motel.”
Her voice quivers, and I roll her onto her back so I can push the hair from her face and kiss her forehead.
“Hey, no. No, baby.”
“You don’t want me.” Her voice is so damn small, just the way it was in the beginning, and it fucking hurts.
“I want you more than anything in the world, and I’m never letting you go again. You will be wherever I am, always.”
“You said that before.”
My eyes close at the truth of that. I did make promises to her that I blew apart.
“I’ll show you,” I whisper. “Go to sleep, baby. We’ll talk more later.”
“Julian?”
“Hmm.”
“My father said that you’ll eventually get tired of me and get rid of me—”
“Don’t you ever listen to another fucking thing that man says, Natasha Stavros.”
She smiles up at me, and then her smile falls and more tears fill her pretty eyes.
“What is it?”
“My ring is gone.”
With a frown, I look down at her hand and realize for the first time that the diamond is missing from her finger.
“What happened?”
She presses her lips together. “I don’t want to tell you. You’ll get mad.”
“It’s okay. You can tell me anything.”
“I had to sell it. I didn’t have any money.”
“If you sold it, you should have been in a much better place than where I found you.”
“I only got twenty-five hundred for it.”
I stare down at her, and for the first time since I’ve had her back safe and sound, I feel hot anger pulse through me.
But not at her.
“Who did you sell it to, Angel?”
“I went to a pawn shop. She said it didn’t matter what it was worth, it only mattered what she was willing to pay for it. And then she said that I couldn’t have it back unless I paid her ten grand.”
“When you’re better, you’re going to tell me which shop that was. And I’ll get your ring back. Unless you want something else?”
“I want my ring.”
“Then you’ll have it.”