Page 128 of Bleed with Me

Aryna nodded, her gaze darting toward the enormous piece of cake.

“Bandages first,” I reminded her gently but firmly, carefully removing the one on her forearm.

In fifteen minutes, we were done, and I was comfortably seated in the armchair I smuggled into the room from my office. Aryna sat on my lap, discussing the colors of the rainbow, successfully diverting my mind from Carlile, Nina, and my brothers.

She was the light. My light.

“Dorian?” Aryna disturbed my thoughts, pointing at the man and the girl in the book. “He isn’t her dad, but she calls him ‘Daddy.’ Why?”

I looked at the picture. My little patient was very observant, and since she’d come into the hospital, she’d improved so much at reading that she read stories to me, not the other way around.

“Because he loves her very much,” I replied, my arm instinctively curling tighter around her.

“Like a real daddy?” She looked at me with wide eyes.

“Exactly like a real daddy,” I confirmed with a smile, but she sighed heavily. “What’s wrong, angel?”

She shook her head and pressed her lips into a thin line.

“Aryna.” I took her chin between my thumb and index finger. “What’s wrong?”

“I love you,” she whispered, my heart skipping a beat in surprise, “like you are my real daddy.”

“I love you, too, angel,” I said without hesitation, wrapping my arms around her when she curled up on my chest.

“You won’t leave me?” she mumbled, clutching my scrubs with her small hands.

The decision was made in a millisecond.

“Never.”

-53-

Dorian

Fifteen minutes before the end of my shift, I kissed Aryna’s forehead and, with a promise to come first thing in the morning, I left her to enjoy dinner. I planned to stay longer, but Nina finally replied to my texts. She barely wrote three words, but it was more than zero, and a seed of hope blossomed in my chest. Maybe she was ready to let me in.

Dorian: Date night? We can try the new restaurant that opened on Friday. I heard great things.

I checked my phone every five seconds while packing my stuff in my office until the desperately awaited response came.

Wifey: I’m having dinner with Lucas.

My brows furrowed. I scanned the words again and again as if they would magically change if I looked long enough. But they didn’t.

She chose someoooone eeelse, the demon sang mockingly in my head, my teeth clashing together.

Nina was my wife. She forced that title on herself. And when the first real problem came, she picked someone else. And not just anyone.

Lucas. Fucking Lucas Colapino. Not a competition. Not someone I could choke or hunt through the night.

Her gay friend.

The urge to throw my phone out the window was strong, but I was a grown man with manners, so instead I replied.

Dorian: Have a nice evening.

The moment I hit send, the phone flew across the room and smashed against the wall, right beside my framed university diploma.