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“Will do…” My brain spun as I tried to take in all the contents at once, latching onto my purse, then my phone, a necklace.
“My things,” I croaked, clutching my chest and getting misty-eyed. “God, I miss my things.”
“Fuck, I knew this was a bad idea,” Foster complained as he shoved the purse back into the bag. His gaze sought mine with worry. He truly hated anything that caused me agony.
“I’m okay,” I assured him. “It’s just…hard.”
“I know,” he murmured, reaching for a set of keys that was the last thing for him to pick up.
No clothing had been saved. They must’ve had to cut everything off me, and it’d been too bloody and ruined to salvage.
Shuddering over the thought, I focused on the keys in Foster’s hand before crying, “Wait!”
He paused, glancing up in confusion. “What?”
“Those are the keys to my apartment,” I said.
His brow furrowed as he glanced down at them in his palm. “Yeah…?”
“Can we go there?” I asked. “I haven’t been home in two weeks. I have a plant to water. Laundry to clean. Food spoiling in the fridge.”
“Raina—” He started uneasily, already begging me with his eyes not to press the subject.
“No, listen,” I cut in. “Look at how long I’ve been here.” When I motioned to my body on the bed, he glanced at it with a cringe. “The likelihood of me waking up after this amount of time has decreased dramatically.”
“Don’t,” he pleaded, his eyes filling with torment. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s true,” I said steadily. “And we have to face the facts. I may never go home again. So I just—I don’t want the captain to have to throw out spoiled milk and a dead plant or pick up my dirty underwear when he goes to clean out my apartment.”
Tears filled Foster’s lashes, and his chin trembled. “How about you just wake up, then?” he suggested in a broken voice before savagely brushing a hand over his face to dry it. “How aboutthat?”
I reached out and touched his cheek. “I wish I could.”
His eyes closed, and he shuddered out a long breath, just as one of his favorite nurses walked into the room.
“Oh shit. Incoming,” I warned, all too late.
Foster opened his eyes and lurched to his feet, caught with my bag of personal effects in one hand and my keys in the other.
“I—I’m so sorry. I must’ve bumped into the cart and spilled everything out of the bag,” he fumbled to explain.
Features crumpling with sympathy, Darlene hurried forward. “Oh, sweetie. It’s okay. No harm done. Did we get everything?” she asked, scanning the floor as Foster handed her the bag.
“I think so,” he said, pocketing the keys without her noticing.
Thrilled that he’d given in to meyetagain, I clapped silently without him noticing and jumped merrily to celebrate my win.
In front of the nurse, Foster wiped his eyes some more and shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know why today’s so hard.”
“Aw, baby,” she murmured pitifully. “Come here.” When she opened her arms for a hug, he stepped forward and wrapped the older woman in his embrace.
At first, I thought he was playing so she wouldn’t notice that he’d stolen my keys, but then I saw the emotion on his face, and I realized he was honestly trying to get himself under control.
Guilt sliced through me. If I’d never appeared to him or remained stuck with him, he wouldn’t be going through this right now. He’d still know nothing about me, and he wouldn’t have to ever worry about mourning for me.
I had truly, honestly messed up his life, hadn’t I?
When he pulled away from Darlene, he offered her a grateful smile and wiped his face. “Thank you. I, uh, I think I’m going to go now.”
