Chapter 66
Austin
Could I go there? Would I go there?
“That’s because I’ve fallen for you.”
I went there. I admitted my feelings.
Now I wait.
The rhythm of my EKG shifted. The beeps came faster and faster the longer it took her to respond.
Shit, I probably freaked her out. Who throws a love confession at a woman who’s just been through hell and back?
“I’m sorry, it was inappropriate for me to say anything.” I tried to pull my hand away from hers, thinking I’d forfeited the right to comfort her.
She refused to release me.
“Austin. I…” Nina turned to face me. Her voice was barely above a whisper as she said the sweetest words I’d ever heard. “I fell for you too, but I didn’t think you’d be interested in someone like me.”
I reached up and brushed a wayward curl off her face, my eyes lingering on the patch of gray. Ignoring the guilt trying to ruin the moment, I said, “You thought wrong.”
“You love me?” she asked. Her voice was a mixture of awe, confusion, and hope.
I did, but hadn’t used those words. Time to rectify that mistake.
“I love you, Nina Novak née Singer.” My smile felt at odds with the setting, but I didn’t care.
Only Nina wasn’t smiling. Shit. Maybe I shouldn’t have used her other last name.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. I was just thinking…” She wiped a tear away, and a soft smile lifted her lips. “You gave me my parents. My history.” She looked down where my left calf should be. “You gave so much to help me, to protect me.”
“I’d give everything to protect you.” It wasn’t a promise; it was a vow. “Come here.” I said, pulling her into a hug.
“Does it hurt?”
“The steady stream of morphine makes sure nothing hurts.” I couldn’t tell her I’d asked the nurse to step it back, so I’d be more coherent for her visit. Which meant I wasn’t entirely pain-free. She doesn’t need to know that.
“I’m glad.”
“You know you can ask about it,” I said, having watched her jerk her eyes away any time they strayed to my legs. Leg.
“About what?”
“About my leg, or lack thereof.” I chuckled. It wasn’t funny, but if I didn’t find a way to laugh, I’d cry, and I wasn’t willing to do that.
At least not in front of Nina, knowing it’d add to her guilt.
Nina pulled away and gasped. It was a clutch the pearls gasp, much like the one I’d her grandmother make.
“How can you joke about it?”
“Because crying or complaining won’t bring my leg back.”
Not that I wouldn’t do both when I was alone.
“I’m sorry.” This time she let her eyes linger on the flat space under the blankets.
“Don’t be. I’m alive, and with some therapy and a prosthetic, I’ll walk again.”
A knock sounded at the door a second before it opened. “Lunchtime.”
Nina stood as the nurse walked in with a tray. “I have to go home and see my grandmother. Can I come back later?”
“I’d like that. Do you need a ride?”