Page 80 of Love By a Landslide

The curtain outside of her room was closed. Before he could back away, Jonathan reached up and knocked on the entryway, dipping in after Lucy called out an invitation.

“Jonathan.” She sucked in a sob. “You came.”

Life and warmth swept over him as he strode to Lucy’s side, lured like a proverbial moth to a flame. Relief flooded her face, a smile pulling wide as she struggled to sit straighter in the inclined hospital bed. She winced under the strain and pressed a stabilizing hand above her left breast.

I broke her rib.

Flashes of water and sand and blue lips flooded Jonathan’s mind. Images of Lucy—vibrant and sunny Lucy—lying there still. Cold beneath his hands as he furiously mashed down on hersternum. The whole time, wild heartbeats pounded in his ears, mocking him and his efforts. He hadn’t even heard the crack.

Nausea crept up. He struggled to swallow the prickly lump in his throat. “Of course I came.”

She rested her head back against the pillow and let out a sigh. Her eyes dipped to the flowers he held. “They’re beautiful.”

“They’re for you.” He reached out and placed them gently in her lap.

“Thank you.” She lifted the blooms up and sniffed, filling her lungs with the fragrance, then winced against the forgotten fracture. Jonathan winced too.

“I hurt you.”

“Yousavedme.” She reached out and squeezed his hand. “What’s a little cracked rib from time to time?”

He flinched.

“Sorry, bad joke.” Lucy laughed then groaned. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. I’m just a big baby.”

Jonathan’s eyes raked over Lucy’s prone body. An oxygen tube affixed to her nose looped up and over each ear, and colorful wires strung from her chest to a beeping monitor. White tape, peeling along one corner, held an IV in place on the back of her hand. Scrapes speckled her cheeks, her lips. And bruises peeked out above the neck of her oversized hospital gown. She’d been through hell.

And his carelessness was to blame.

“Are you ok?” She stared intently, a hint of a smile still playing on her lips, trying to puzzle out what was wrong. He pinched his lips together and took a slow, deep breath through his nose. Her grin slipped away. “Jonathan. Talk to me.”

“Lucy . . . I . . .” He paused, choking on the words, trying to force them out.It’s best this way. Best for her.“I can’t do this. It’s a bad idea.” He raised a hand, rubbed his forehead, and then rakedboth through his damp, rumpled hair.

Lucy struggled upright again but did a poor job of masking her discomfort. “What’s a bad idea?” she demanded.

“Us. This.” He gestured between them like a panicked game of charades.

“Are you saying you don’t want to be with me?” The words crawled over Jonathan like a thousand tiny spiders—prickly, unsettling.

No, of course I want to be with you. My heart, my body needs you more than it needs my next breath.

“Yes,” he muttered instead.

“I don’t believe you.” She crossed her arms and shook her head like she was trying to fling his words from her ears.

He couldn’t hold still. He had to walk off the nervous energy accumulating in his gut. He turned and paced the width of the tiny room, managing to span the distance in three long strides. Turn. Three more. Turn. He did this a few more times then stopped at the end of her bed. “Lucy. You were relying on me, and look what happened.” His arms waved to her, the room, the equipment. “You nearly died.” His pacing resumed. “Twice!”

“First of all, you had no control over the landslide. Second, my foot slipped on the log. Neither situation was your fault.”

“You were my responsibility, and I choked.” He jammed his hands into his front pockets. “I failed to keep you safe. And you were lucky.This timeyou were lucky to come out of it alive, but who knows if that would be the case next time.”

“Next time? Are you planning on getting us stranded in the woods again sometime soon?” A pained laugh erupted from her lips and Jonathan tensed at the lack of humor in the sound.

“Lucy,” he implored, willing her to understand, “I don’t want anything to happen to you. I don’t want to be thereasonanything happens to you. But if you stick around, there’s a prettyfucking good chance that you’ll end up hurt again. Or worse.”

“There is exactly one person responsible for me and my actions. And of the two people in this room, who do you suppose that is?” Lucy’s breath came in ragged spurts as she flipped the covers off her lap. The forgotten bundle of flowers fell off the edge of the bed, landing with a crinkly thunk. “There are risks in every relationship. We both happen to be outdoorsy people. We’d hike and camp, and maybe one day I could get you back out on that river. But I promise I’ll be more careful next time.” She shrugged. “Plus, there’s a much higher risk of one of us getting in a car wreck than reliving what we just experienced out there.”

“Stop!” He clenched his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. His stomach flipped then bottomed out. He felt physically ill. “I can’t think about something happening to you.”

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