Page 61 of Things We Tell Ourselves

“Can you give us a minute?” Wade says to him.

“Of course,” the doctor nods, continuing his path down the hall.

Wade takes a cautious step closer. Camille watches his Adam’s apple pulse as he swallows. “How was your flight?”

His eyes find hers.

“Why are you here?”

His eyes flicker past her a brief second to Evelyn. “I came over to check on her once I got in.”

She squints her eyes at him, heat rising to her cheeks. “You came to close the deal with her when you realized I wasn’t going to sign.” She shakes her head at him. “Too bad I own half of Integrity Heights.”

“It’s not like that—”

“Don’t,” Camille says over him, her words louder than she’d intended, “I don’t want to hear what you have to say. I’ve already discussed it with Evelyn. We’ve already set up another meeting with the Lichtenstein brothers.”

He opens his mouth and then shuts it.

Camille shakes her head as tears begin to pour from her eyes. “Just leave.”

He raises his hands, reaching for her shoulders.

She pulls back before he can touch her. “Go.”

Camille goes to the foot of Evelyn’s bed and doesn’t look back. She stares down at Evelyn’s feet under the thin hospital covers. Several long minutes pass before she hears Wade walk away. Evelyn’s feet rub together under the covers.

“He came here for you, you know.”

Camille’s gaze moves up to Evelyn’s face. “You’re awake.”

Evelyn shifts uncomfortably, trying not to move her left arm. “You were yelling. You should have let him talk.”

“I wasn’t yelling.” Camille rolls her eyes, walking around to Evelyn’s uninjured right hand. “How are you feeling?”

“As good as I look, I reckon. Your Mr. Bloom called me asking about you shortly after they started rewrapping my arm. It took me a little while before I was able to call him back.”

“You told him to come here?”

“No,” Evelyn says slowly, “he wanted to know where you’d be going once you landed.”

“What he wanted,” Camille says, “was to talk himself back into our good graces.” She gently squeezes Evelyn’s hand. “But it doesn’t matter.” She glances over at her arm. “How’s your arm?”

Evelyn forces a grin. The act seems to take some effort on her part. “The blisters are pretty impressive, but I wouldn’t recommend being splashed with hot grease if you can avoid it. The pain medicine they give you only lessens the throbbing, burning sensation. Nothing seems to fully alleviate it.”

Camille grimaces.

Evelyn exhales, glancing at her injured arm. “But at least it only hurts when I’m awake.”

“I’ll mark the hot grease bath off of my list of things to do today,” Camille says, forcing a chuckle. “Have they told you how long you’ll have to be in the hospital?”

“Another night for sure. Longer if there are any signs of an infection. Silly me didn’t think about it when I threw a dirty dishtowel over my arm after it happened. I thought I was going to have a reptile arm, but,” she raises her brows at Camille, “your boy toy showed up, and now I have a specialist flying in from Chicago.”

Camille purses her lips, looking at Evelyn’s hand in hers. “Your burns must be pretty bad if they’re calling in a specialist from out of state.”

Evelyn squeezes Camille’s hand, causing Camille to meet her gaze. “Wade is the one flying him out, Cammy. He’s the one who found the guy.”

“That’s great,” Camille murmurs, using her free hand to whip her face.

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