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A beam of light spills in from the hallway as the door pushes inward. Someone slips in through the gap, immediately shutting the door behind them, casting the room back into darkness, except for the faint glow of the machines monitoring my vitals. Everything past a certain point is out of focus, so I reach for my glasses, sliding them on.
The blurry figure solidifies.
Holly.
When our eyes catch, she grins, and my whole body clenches with happiness.
“What are you doing here?” My voice still sounds hoarse from the breathing tube they had down my throat during surgery.
“Came to see you.” She leans against the wall, as if this were a casual visit.
Then, I notice the deep breaths she’s taking. Like she’s having trouble catching them.
“You should be in bed. You’re going to tear your stitches. Or pass out on the floor.” I try to push myself up, but my bones are as supportive as liquid.
“I’m okay. Look.” Holly shuffles across the tiled floor toward me.
As much as I want to hold her, the painfully slow movements urge me to press a button to call the nurse in here, so someone can force her back to bed. Before I make up my mind, she reaches the foot of the bed.
“Ta-da!” Somehow, she’s still got a silly grin on her face, even as air whistles in and out of her nose.
“Impressive. Thanks for the show. But I think it’s time someone takes you back to your room.”
However, when I reach for the remote, Holly takes another stumbling step forward and grabs my hand. The shock of her soft skin against mine freezes me, and I almost groan in pleasure. She’s better than pain meds, her touch finally easing all my discomfort.
“Wait, Ben. Please. I just want to sit with you for a bit.”
How can I say no to that?
When I nod, she lifts herself onto the bed, sitting with just an inch between us. Her thumb rubs over my knuckles before she lifts our hands to place a kiss in the middle of my palm. Gentle waves of calm flow through me. I want to give her the same.
“Why’re you up in the middle of the night?”
She shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep. A dream woke me up.”
I remember the night in the cabin. “Another nightmare?”
“No. Not a nightmare. Just …” She trails off, a curious look on her face while she fiddles with my fingers. After a moment, she shakes her head and focuses back on me. “Just a dream.”
“Hmm.” I pull her hand to my mouth and press my lips against her knuckles. “Was I in the dream?”
“Maybe.” She watches my mouth move against her skin.
“Maybe? You trying to tell me you were dreaming about some other guy?” My tone is light and playful, but there’s a pinch of fear in my chest.
A week ago, Holly told me she needed time. Said we’d talk after the surgery. Then, she kissed me like it meant something in the parking garage and told me she was sorry.
But sorry for what?
Sorry that she put space between us?
Sorry that she made me live a week of my life without her?
Or sorry that she’s ending things?
Sorry for making me fall in love with her?
I don’t know if she heard me before the drugs kicked in, and I don’t know how to ask. My chest stings suddenly—and not from the aftermath of the surgery. Instead, I wonder if she’s snuck in here to break things off with me once and for all.
