Chapter 19 #2
“Of course. You’re facing the doors right now, so if you walk straight ahead, they should open automatically.
” His voice guided me down the hall, to the elevators, and the app even managed to stay connected all the way up to the fourth floor.
“Looks like the lobby for Neuro ICU is to your left. The waiting room is on the right, and there’s a call button on the wall on the left side of the double doors. ”
“Thank you,” I said, my chest filled with relief. “I really appreciate you.”
“Anytime,” he told me. “Would you like me to disconnect the call?”
“I’ve got it. Thanks.” I double-tapped, and the line went dead, so I shoved my earbud back into my pocket, then made my way to the doors. It only took a few seconds of searching before I found the call button, and it beeped at me for several seconds before someone picked up.
“Neuro ICU.”
“Hi. I’m here to see Alexio Zeki. Is he accepting visitors?”
“One moment.”
My heart was in my butt again.
“Please step back. You’ll hear a loud click, and then the doors will open. The patient is in room four-oh-six.”
“Is there braille on the doors? I’m blind.”
“Yes, but I’ll have someone meet you to take you there,” she said, and then the intercom cut off, and there was a massive clicking noise.
I jumped back right when I felt a whoosh of cold air, and the door clipped me on the shoulder, but I ignored the punch of pain as I put my cane in front of me and walked far enough that I was pretty sure I was clear of the doorway.
I didn’t want to wait for a fucking nurse.
I just wanted to go find him, but hospitals were always like goddamn mazes, and I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly.
She hadn’t asked my name. She just…let me in.
So there was every chance Alexio was going to throw my ass out the moment he knew who was there.
“Hello,” someone said as they approached. “You’re here for Mr. Zeki?”
“Yep.”
“Are you with rehab? We didn’t get a call—”
“What? I—oh.” Right. Because he couldn’t see, and I was blind, and…yeah. “No. I’m a friend.”
“Oh,” she said, her voice filled with surprise.
I guess it was weird that a guy who lost his sight from a head injury would have a blind friend. Was that irony? Coincidence? I never did understand the difference.
Clearing my throat, I stretched out a hand. “So, can we go, or…”
“Right. How would you like me to assist?”
“I’ll take your shoulder,” I told her.
Annoyingly, she picked up my hand without asking and dropped it on her shoulder, but I let that one slide.
It was hard to give a shit when she finally started walking and the distance between me and Alexio was finally closing.
I didn’t know if it would last, but god, Micah was right in pointing out that I was a dipshit who hadn’t even tried.
This was the worst time not to be a stubborn bastard and insist on getting my way.
“He’s right inside here,” the nurse said, and I took my hand away. “If you’d like me to help you in…”
“No. Uh…no. That’s…I’ll be fine. Is he awake?”
“He is. Please call if you need anything.”
I made my way around her, pushing the door all the way open. I could hear faint beeping and strange machine noises. And then the sound of someone’s body shifting on sheets.
“Nikos? I thought you went home.”
“It’s, uh…it’s me.”
My words were met with a heavy silence.
“You can throw me out if you want, but I needed to see for myself that you were alive since you wouldn’t goddamn let me in here.” Oh. Shit. I was angry, and I hadn’t realized it until now. My temper was rising, and I tried to breathe through it as I made my way further into the room.
My cane swept from right to left, hitting what was probably a chair, then some kind of standing object. And then the bed.
I heard him jolt at the sound.
“I don’t know what the fuck I did to offend you so badly that you’d keep me away—”
“I,” he said. His voice was raspy. “I didn’t…”
“What? Think I could handle it?” I demanded.
He let out a sharp breath. “I didn’t think I could. This is fucking terrifying, Jonah, and the last thing I wanted was to hear you tell me that it was going to be okay. That I’d fucking adapt. That I could, I don’t know, go play blind hockey or—”
“Are you serious right now?” Yeah. Now I was extra pissed. “You think I was going to be that goddamn blasé about you getting your literal lights knocked out?”
He said nothing.
My fingers found the railing on his bed, and I traced my way up until I was near his head.
“You thought I’d be like, oh, it’s fine, come play blind hockey after serious injury? I thought you were fucking dying! I thought—” My voice cracked, and I stopped. I didn’t want him to hear me break down like this. I swallowed several times in a row. “I thought I was never going to see you again.”
He shifted. “I’m sorry. I…I didn’t think. I’m so fucking scared, Jonah. They still can’t tell me if it’s going to get better or not.”
I immediately softened. He sounded so wounded—in so fucking much pain.
I set my cane against the wall, then traced my fingertips around until I found his arm.
It was lined with IV tubes, so I kept my touch gentle as I linked my fingers with him, and he squeezed as tight as he could manage, which was nowhere near his usual strength.
I hated that. So fucking much.
But I knew that wasn’t forever.
The concussion was probably taking a lot out of him. Not just fucking with his vision.
“Is any of it better?” I made myself ask. “Since you woke up?”
He let out a soft breath. “Yeah. It…it’s different now.”
“What kind of different?”
His laugh was slightly pained and bitter. “I mean…I don’t know. It’s…” I felt him shift beneath me, and I traced my hand up his arm.
“Is this okay? Can I touch you?”
“Yes. God, I—yes.” His voice trembled. “I was so fucking scared for you to come here, but all I wanted was you.”
“Jackass,” I muttered angrily.
“I know. I know.” He whispered something in what sounded like Greek. God, I was really going to need to study both of his other languages. “Nikos has been calling me a moron for days now.”
My fingertips traced along his jawline, rough but not a full beard since they weren’t going into playoffs. I scratched over his skin, and he groaned, his head flopping toward me. His hand curled around my wrist, and he lifted my palm, pressing it to the center of his face, and kissed it.
My knees went weak, and I sagged over his bed. I wanted to crawl into his arms, but I knew that wasn’t the right move. It could wait until he was home.
He let out a long breath as he pulled my hand away, but he didn’t move it far. He held me by the wrist and waved my fingers in front of him.
“You can see that, yeah?”
“Yes. I…” he hesitated. “There was swelling that affected my optic nerves. I couldn’t see anything for that first twenty-four hours. It was just…I…I don’t know how to describe it.”
I couldn’t stop the smallest grin. “Sweetheart, I think I get it.”
“I—oh. Right. Well.” He huffed something that sounded like a laugh.
“They gave me a ton of meds, and a few hours later, I started to see light. Like—like not light sources, but I could tell if it was bright or if it was dark. By the morning, it was more like I was looking through a foggy window. Some shapes, some colors, movement.”
“And now?”
My fingertips were on his face, right near his mouth, and I felt him bite his lip. “There’s this tiny window in the center of my vision that…that sometimes it’s really clear, and sometimes it isn’t. But it’s been getting bigger every day.”
I let out a rush of air and fell forward, my forehead bumping against his temple. He hissed, but when I tried to pull back, he held me against him. “Baby,” I murmured. “That’s good, right? It’s a good sign.”
“My neurologist thinks so. He said the cortical damage isn’t severe. My optic nerves are okay now that all the swelling is down. I should make a recovery. But he can’t guarantee, and the not knowing is fucking killing me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I hope…” He stopped, and I lifted my head.
“Tell me,” I begged.
Turning his head, he put a hand to my cheek, his thumb running over my lips. “I hope this doesn’t make you feel bad. How…how desperately I want to see again.”
I laughed. “No. I don’t want you to go through any of this. It’s different for you. And none of this was fair.”
He pulled me back against him. “Did you win the game today?”
I startled. “What?”
“I listened to part of it, but then my headache got too bad. I know you were playing against your brother. Did you kick his ass?”
I burst into laughter, then used a gentle touch to turn his head and kissed the shit out of him. He moaned into my mouth, and his fingers curled tightly and painfully into the back of my neck.
“Yeah,” I said when I finally broke for air. “I kicked his ass.”
“Good,” he said. “But do you think I’m a monster if I tell you that I kind of hope you don’t go all the way?”
“Yes,” I said. “But it’s okay. Apparently, I’m in love with a monster who fucking ignores me when he needs me, and I can live with that.”
He stiffened beneath me. “I—Jonah.”
I was feeling too reckless to pretend that I wasn’t head over heels for him. And too angry. “I’m not sorry I said it. And I’m not taking it back.”
“No. My love. No. I don’t want you to be sorry. I just wanted to say it somewhere else. Not here.”
“I don’t care where we are. I thought you were going to fucking leave me, and I didn’t know what to do with myself,” I told him.
I cupped his cheek. “I hated every single second I wasn’t in your arms. I want to win the cup because I always want to win the fucking cup, but if we go out early, I won’t cry about it because it means I get to be home sooner. ”
He was quiet for a long moment, and then he pressed his hand to the side of my neck, cupping over my hammering pulse. “I’m in love with you too, Sparky.”
I grinned and leaned in to kiss him. “I know you are. And when I’m done being pissed and when you’re healed enough to take it, I’m gonna show you why that’s the best fucking idea in the world.”
He laughed softly, then pulled me close and kissed me again.