Chapter 13 #2
“That’s wonderful news,” Eddie said, and the genuine happiness in his voice made that twist in my chest intensify. “You must be relieved.”
“Yeah, I am. Still a long road ahead, but…” I shrugged carefully. “It’s the first really good news we’ve had since the diagnosis.”
By evening, the sharp edge of the pain had dulled to a manageable ache, though I wasn’t anywhere near a hundred percent.
Eddie made us pasta for dinner—surprisingly competent for someone who’d admitted to being hopeless in the kitchen—and we ate while watching a British comedy show he’d found on some obscure streaming service.
“I should probably head to bed early,” I said as we were cleaning up the dishes. Eddie did most of the work, of course, but I was trying to at least move around a bit so my muscles wouldn’t start locking up. “Try to sleep this off.”
“Good idea,” Eddie agreed. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, “Bash, you can’t sleep on the couch tonight. Not with your back like this.”
I’d been dreading this conversation. The couch that had been perfectly adequate when I was healthy would be torture with a back injury, but I wasn’t about to kick Eddie out of his own bed. “I’ll be fine.”
“No, you won’t. You’ll wake up tomorrow feeling worse, and then we’ll be dealing with this for even longer.” Eddie’s tone was patient but firm. “You need proper support for your back.”
“So what are you suggesting? That I take your bed and you sleep on the couch? ’Cause I can tell you right now that that ain’t happening.”
“I’m suggesting we share the bed like reasonable adults,” Eddie said matter-of-factly, though I caught the slight color that crept up his neck as he said it. “It’s large enough for both of us, and that way, neither of us has to sleep on furniture that wasn’t designed for extended use.”
The prospect of sharing a bed with Eddie—even platonically—made my pulse quicken in ways that were neither appropriate nor convenient given my current physical condition.
We’d been getting more intimate over the past few weeks, exploring each other’s bodies with increasing confidence and enthusiasm, but we’d never actually slept together.
Never crossed that particular line of domestic intimacy.
“Are you sure?” I asked. “I mean, with my back, I probably won’t be much fun.”
“I wasn’t expecting fun. I was thinking more along the lines of actual sleep. Rest. Recovery.”
“Okay,” I agreed, because the alternative really wasn’t viable. “But if I accidentally elbow you in my sleep or something, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
An hour later, I was lying in Eddie’s bed—our bed, I supposed, at least for tonight—staring at the ceiling while Eddie moved around the room getting ready for sleep. The mattress was definitely more supportive than the couch, and I could already feel some of the tension in my back starting to ease.
“How’s that feel?” Eddie asked as he slipped under the covers beside me, careful to keep some distance between us.
“Much better. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
We lay there in the semi-darkness, both of us clearly aware of the other’s presence but trying to maintain appropriate boundaries given the circumstances. Eddie was warm beside me, close enough that I could hear his breathing, but far enough away that we weren’t actually touching.
“Bash?” Eddie’s voice was quiet in the darkness. “Does it help if I… Would a gentle massage make it better or worse?”
The offer surprised me, partly because it was thoughtful and partly because it suggested a level of intimacy I hadn’t expected. I should refuse for all the obvious reasons, but I didn’t. “That would be amazing. If you don’t mind.”
“I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”
Eddie shifted into a sitting position, then turned on a soft light. He grabbed some lotion from his nightstand—I did not want to think about why that was in that particular location—and moved closer. “Can I lift your shirt up?”
In lieu of an answer, I carefully dragged it over my head, wincing at the dull pain that throbbed in my lower back. “Have at it.”
His touch was careful, exploratory, like he was mapping the injured area before deciding how to proceed. “Here?” he asked, pressing lightly on a particularly sore spot.
“Little lower. Yeah, right there.”
What followed was probably the most therapeutic twenty minutes of my adult life.
Eddie’s hands were gentle but sure as he worked out the knots of tension in my back, using the perfect amount of pressure to help without causing additional pain.
It was intimate in a way that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with allowing him to take care of me.
I sucked at accepting help, but I was giving in to that need now.
“Better?” he asked eventually, his hands stilling against my back.
“Much better. Where did you learn to do that?”
He moved back into a lying position. “I had a lot of physical therapy for my joint issues, so I used some of the techniques therapists applied.”
I turned over carefully, mindful of my back, and found Eddie lying beside me in the dim light filtering through our curtains. He was closer than I’d expected, close enough that I could see the concern in his green eyes, the way his hair was mussed from the pillow. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
“You don’t need to thank me,” Eddie replied, but there was something soft in his expression that suggested my gratitude mattered to him. “That’s what… That’s what people do for each other.”
He’d been about to say something else. Something more specific than people.
But whatever it was, he’d caught himself, and now we were looking at each other in the half-darkness, both aware that something had shifted between us today.
What Eddie had shown me today—the care, the concern, the willingness to put my comfort ahead of his own plans—spoke to something deeper and more complicated.
“Eddie…”
“Go to sleep, Bash,” he said gently, settling back onto his pillow. “We can talk tomorrow when you’re feeling better.”
He was right. My back was already feeling more manageable, the combination of rest, ice, painkillers, and of course his gentle massage having worked wonders. Now was not the time to raise difficult topics. “Sleep well.”
“You too.”
Eddie’s breathing gradually evened out beside me, but for me, sleep didn’t come so easily. My body was at peace now, but my mind was anything but. Alarm bells were going off. Loud ones, red ones, glaring ones that wouldn’t be ignored much longer.
But for tonight, I would try.