Chapter 43
Of all the many details of what Dallas is telling me, which are slowly sinking in, like dripping water through the tiny hole in my head, this detail spears me directly through the heart and sinks deep into my soul.
Every sad memory, every ache over losing the most important things in my life, every terrified night, every stark realization of how very alone in this world I’ve been.
All of it has been … solved. Fixed. Just like that.
He knew about each one.
And he picked up each individual broken brick of my life’s wreckage, brushed off its dust, repaired it, then reassembled the brickwork to be not just a replica of my old life’s architecture, but a beautiful, idealized version of it.
“I don’t know what to say,” I whisper.
“Say yes.”
Dallas’s eyes get more blue when he’s stormy. But when he’s beguiled, like now, it’s the green of them that glows brightest. I touch my hand to his face. “You really did all that for me?”
“I’ll do anything for you. You should know that by now.”
With my movement, Dallas notices my light wince from the pain in my head. He sees the wrapped ice pack, marked with a small amount of blood. “Amelie? What happened? Are you hurt?”
I’m more shocked than he is. Because the sheer depth of his concern is something I’ve never experienced before.
Of course I’ve had people care about me in my life.
But not like this. It pains him, that anything might be wrong with me, as though the very thought of such a travesty is more than he can bear.
The magnitude of this singular emotion in him is simply the most profound thing that’s ever happened to me.
The floor that dropped out of my life has been replaced and it’s built of steel, concrete and the ten-ton bond I have with this beautiful man, my savior, my lover and my dream come true.
He turns my head very carefully, seeing the drying blood that has matted my hair at the back.
“Amelie. You’re fucking bleeding.” He glances briefly at the door, which is still swarming with security—even though I’m suspecting now it’s more about the fact that three Wilder brothers have entered the club.
“Did those cops being here have anything to do with you?”
“That guy that just got taken away pushed her,” Sadie tells him.
“She fell and bumped her head and passed out for a minute. Not a minute. More like ten or fifteen seconds. There were already cops outside and lots of witnesses so they arrested him on the spot. I was going to call an ambulance but Amelie didn’t want me to. ”
“I’m fine,” I insist. I’m not quite as dizzy. “It’s stopped bleeding now.”
I can see Dallas’s thoughts flickering, just like mine did.
His gaze slides down my body before returning to my face.
The baby. Dallas nudges Boone to move aside and then, with infinite care, he lifts me into his arms. “We’re getting you checked out right the fuck now.
You should have told me, honey.” He’s angry.
Not at me. At my past damages, that I played down my own well-being, because I never had parents or caregivers who listened.
“Do you need us?” Boone asks Dallas.
“No. I’ll call you once we get home.”
Boone nods.
“You okay, Sade?”
She’s clearly relieved that Dallas is taking care of me. “I’m just going to hang out here with my new friends Apollo and Boone Wilder for a while. I’ll be redeeming my raincheck tomorrow to come over and check on you.”
Dallas carries me out of the club. To one of the officers standing there, he says, “The guy they took away, where is he going?”
“Ninth Precinct,” the guy tells him. “For questioning.”
“My lawyers will be in touch within the hour. We plan to prosecute to the full extent of the law. He’s lucky I didn’t get my fucking hands on him.”
The officer doesn’t even have a chance to reply before Dallas carries me around the cop car to where his driver is waiting for us. He opens the door and Dallas pulls me onto his lap. A few seconds later we pull away from the curb.
“Can you promise me one thing?” he asks me.
“What thing?”
“Don’t ever do that to me again.”
“Do what?” But I know what he means.
“Leave me like that. Without giving me a chance to explain.”
“I’m sorry.” I was wrong about everything and I’ve caused us both a lot of unnecessary angst. I can see that now.
All because I didn’t trust him. Because I don’t know how.
But it occurs to me that an old dog can learn new tricks.
And maybe it’s time for me to do that. To try harder than I ever have because he’s worth the risk.
“I know why you left. I understand. But, please, if you think I’ve done something wrong—which I will, all the fucking time—just tell me. Whatever it is, I’ll fix it.”
I nod, amazed by everything about him. “Okay.”
“You can trust me with your whole heart, Amelie Thibodeaux. Just like I’m trusting you with mine.”
I lean my head against his solid chest and I can hear his heart beating. So steady. Like everything else about him. At the reliability of its rhythm, I’m suddenly overcome with a wave of exhaustion.
“Don’t go to sleep, honey. We’re almost there.”
“Where are we going?”
“I have a doctor on call. In my building. I let him know we need to see him now and he’s waiting for us.”
“Wow. That’s … fast.” His brothers really weren’t kidding when they said Dallas knows how to get shit done. The man is a magician.
“The third floor of my building is full of doctor’s offices,” Dallas explains.
“My personal doctor and all kinds of specialists. There’s a pharmacy and a dentist too.
The fourth floor is luxury apartments. I give them free rent in both to remain on call, within reason, whenever they might be needed. ”
“That’s … amazing.” It really is. And it’s a good idea, I guess, if you have unlimited money. When you think about it, that really is the most prized luxury of all: having every kind of medical attention you could ever need at your beck and call. “I don’t have health insurance.”
“Yes you do. I put you on my policy that day we flew back to New York.”
“You did?”
“Yes. I didn’t want to overwhelm you, but I already knew I was going to ask you to marry me and have my babies. The mother of my children needs the best medical care there is.”
“Oh.” I’m not sure if the tears in my eyes are from relief or from pain. The throb in my head feels like someone implanted a jackhammer in there. But so much existential weight has been lifted from my life it’s almost disorienting. There’s suddenly so much less to be afraid of.
The car pulls to a stop and Dallas carries me into his building. We take the elevator to the third floor, where a nurse greets us. “Good evening, Mr. Wilder. Miss Thibodeaux. Dr. Lee is waiting for you. Follow me, please.”
We enter a doctor’s office and Dallas places me on the raised bed.
There are introductions. The doctor has kind eyes.
He checks my head. The nurse takes a blood test. I’m given some pills and a glass of water.
The doctor cleans the cut at the back of my head, but he tells me there’s no need for stitches.
Head wounds tend to bleed a lot, he says, and sometimes look worse than they are.
Dallas is sitting in a chair in the corner watching everything.
Then the doctor leaves for a few minutes as the nurse chats with me, to keep me awake, I suspect. She asks me where I’m from. How I like New York. Have I seen any shows? Which one was my favorite?
I answer her questions sort of vaguely, and I feel like I’m doing it from outside my own body, floating somewhere above it.
The doctor comes back into the room and tells me he has some test results. Would I like privacy to discuss them?
“No. He can stay.” I need him here. Because I think I might know what the doctor is about to say. I reach out my hand to Dallas and he comes to me, standing close, taking my hand in his.
“Amelie, you have a very mild concussion,” the doctor says.
“I’ve given you some pain relief, which should help with the headache.
You’ll need to get plenty of rest for the next 48 hours but make sure you get some sun and light activity too.
Keep any strenuous activity to a minimum for five days to a week.
You’re also mildly anemic. I’m prescribing an iron supplement as well as a prenatal supplement. ”
“A pre …” Does that mean …?
“Your pregnancy test was positive.” Maybe the doctor is able to read both mine and Dallas’s expressions because he adds, “Congratulations.”