Page 35 of First Comes Marriage

He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t look away. One of her organs wastwistingand she hadn’t seen a doctor because somehow, despite being the youngest daughter of an insanelywealthy family, she couldn’t afford health insurance. He hated everything about this.

“Sounds serious.”

“It can be.” She wouldn’t look at him, her gaze focused on the last bits of her melting ice cream, and he gripped his bowl harder to keep himself from going to her. “Most of the time it’s no worse than what you’ve seen this past week.”

“And the rest of the time?”

“The rest of the time I get real friendly with the nurses in the ER.” His shoulders went stiff, his jaw clenched, and her face softened. “That hasn’t been necessary in a while.”

“But it could be.”

“It could. But there are drugs that can help lessen the symptoms. Birth control,” she said, her false brightness chafing at his skin. “Which, thanks to you and your handy-dandy insurance, I’ll be able to get back on soon. So, thanks for that.”

“Lessen but not cure.”

She sighed and, for the first time that night, she looked tired. “There is no cure. Not unless the thing twists long enough to require surgical removal. But that’s the worst case scenario.”

“How close have you come to that worst case scenario?”

She smiled a sad sort of smile. “Lately? Not that close.”

“And that,” he gestured back towards the guest room where he’d last seen her wincing in pain, “was—what? A medium case scenario?”

She chuckled and shrugged one shoulder. ‘That was a Monday.”

“Jesus.” He scraped his hand over his jaw. She was so cavalier about it, so accepting that she was going to be in pain.

“It’s not always like that. I have plenty of days where I’m not in pain at all.”

“And then you have others where you land in the ER.”

She tilted her head in agreement.

“How will I know? When it’s just a Monday versus when Ishould take you to the ER?”

She cocked her head to the side, her face scrunched up in question. “It’s not something you need to worry about, Sebastian.”

“But I do. Worry about it.” He hadn’t realized he’d taken a step closer to her, and it suddenly felt too close, even though there was half a room between them. He forced himself to ease back towards the safety of the counter.

She studied him for a minute, the surprise on her face melting into something shy. A retreat. The back of his neck itched with the suppressed desire to tear down all her walls. But that wasn’t what they were doing here. A few weeks together didn’t make them the kinds of friends who had to let each other all the way in, even though the glimpse of herself she’d given him was enough to make him want to bust down the door. It was a reminder of how little they actually knew of each other.

“Why couldn’t you sleep tonight?”

He busied himself with scraping up the last of his ice cream, gathering the melted bits into a final bite, and tried to brush off the lingering sense that he’d let her down somehow. “Just couldn’t.”

He could feel her eyes on him and, for a moment, he wished he had more to say. She’d shared so much, and he knew he should be able to offer her something in return. But he didn’t know why he hadn’t been able to sleep—other than the new noises coming through his wall, that is. All he knew was he had a ball of knotted up…something…lodged behind his sternum. Gavin had called it emotional constipation, but that wasn’t an image he particularly wanted in his brain.

“I haven’t slept well since I was a kid. My mom’s house is old. Half the floorboards creek and in the winter you can hear the air in the pipes.” She looked at him as though she were eagerly awaiting his next words, and despite himself, he found himself telling her more. “I used to lie awake and wait until Mom went to bed, too, and the noises stopped.”

“Why?”

He shrugged one shoulder. He didn’t like being on the receiving end of the questions. “I don’t think I could relax until I knew she was safe.”

“And tonight you could hear me.”

He shrugged again.

She looked as though she were about to ask something else, but no good could come from continuing this game of twenty questions with Sabrina in the middle of the night. He wasn’t even sure why he had initiated this midnight snack in the first place. It was better if he maintained at least some semblance of distance. This was a practical arrangement. Nothing more.

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