Chapter 26
Loved. Safe. Happy.
I wiped at the tears on my face, hating the fact that this stuffed tiger could make me that emotional.
It had been given to me by Sam and Melissa, who had asked the nurses to bring it—along with the card explaining what it was—to me yesterday. I hadn’t been allowed to have any visitors other than the Assistant Deputy Director, who had come by to get my version of what had happened at the warehouse.
I hadn’t seen Hart or Cass or Ward or Mason or Raj. I hadn’t even seen Violette, although I heard her yelling at one of the nurses about it.
I had several bouquets of flowers, a box of chocolates, a manual puzzle box that I hadn’t had the focus to actually solve yet, and the stuffed tiger, which, the card had explained, had come from a store that specialized in gifts for psychics that had been intentionally selected because of the positive feelings that were attached to them.
The problem with the tiger wasn’t that it had positive thoughts or that they were so vague that I wouldn’t have to deal with the intrusion of thoughts—it was just feelings of safety and contentment.
The problem wasn’t even the fact that I was deeply touched by the fact that Melissa and Sam had bought it for me, although that did put a lump in my throat.
The problem was that it was a tiger.
I didn’t dislike tigers. But Raj was a tiger, and I wasn’t at all sure how I felt about him right now.
He hadn’t come to see me, although neither had anybody else, really. He had sent me the puzzle box, with a small card that just had “R” written on it. No love-note, and no apology.
And I didn’t know how to feel about that, either.
I’d wanted him to say something, anything. To tell me he was glad I was okay. To tell me that I was important to him, that he cared about me. And, yes, the more I thought about it, to tell me that he was glad I could take care of myself, even if he wasn’t willing to apologize.
Because I didn’t think he ever would. Not for worrying about me, certainly, and I didn’t even want him to apologize for that. I wanted him to apologize for trying to get me to change my actions because of his worry.
So having a stupid stuffed tiger was just reminding me that I was mad at Raj, I was upset that he hadn’t said more in his stupid note, and I was also emotional from being completely exhausted, both physically and magically.
I put the tiger back on the side table, wishing I had a drawer or something I could hide it in so that I could stop having to look at it and think about the state of my relationship.
They’d taken away my picked-at tray of lunch, which I hadn’t wanted to eat both because I didn’t feel like eating and because I was extremely dubious that what they’d given me actually had any nutritional value whatsoever.
I was also supposed to be released today, so I knew that I’d be able to get some food pretty much immediately.
I was trying not to let myself fall into an emotional state that felt too much like despair, which also made me irritated, although this time at myself.
I’d been through far worse and come out of it, maybe not better, but still alive.
This was just a rough patch in my relationship—I still had a job, still had friends, still had my sister, all of which was a lot more than I’d had when I was locked up in Tranquil Brook.
The door swung open, and the nurse ushered in Vi, who ran over and flung herself at me, throwing her arms around my neck.
“Careful!” the nurse warned sharply.
Vi all but jumped back. “Oh, God, sorry,” she said, her eyes wide. “Are you—what hurts?”
I smiled at her. “Nothing, really,” I answered her honestly. “I got a few cuts on my arm and my shins, but they didn’t even need stitches. I just magically exhausted myself.”
“So hugs are okay?” she asked.
I nodded, and she grabbed me again—although a bit less enthusiastically—squeezing tightly.
It felt good.
Raj had texted me while Vi was getting care instructions from the discharging doctor.
Hey. How are you feeling? Do you get to go home today?
I’m fine, I texted back. Vi is signing me out right now.
That’s good.
I wasn’t sure what to say to that, but I noticed that there were small dots indicating that he was still typing, so I waited.
I’m sorry I didn’t come today. Hart and Cass are still out, too, and we have to wrap this case.
I didn’t ask him what it took in order to close a case where the radical religious sect had been torn apart by the undead.
It’s okay, I sent back, because I was at least partly the reason he was still working.
It’s not, he replied. But I don’t have a choice.
I know, I told him.
I’ll come see you as soon as I can, he sent, and that, at least, made me feel better.
Okay.
Take care of yourself, he told me, and I tried not to feel resentment about that. I did need to take care of myself.
I just didn’t want to have to—and I really didn’t want to be told to.