Page 68 of Amnesty

Her head was against his chest, her body curled up along his side. The blankets were over her, but not him. Eddie was lying on top of the covers, fully dressed in gray sweatpants and a long-sleeved black shirt.

One of his arms was around her, keeping her close. His hair fell over his forehead, and I thought about the way it looked just last night when it was dripping wet in the shower.

It shouldn’t bother me. After last night, the moments we shared… I think parts of me were still trembling from it.

It did bother me.

Knowing he left my bed last night and came here was one thing. But seeing them together like this stung pretty severely.

Obviously, he loved me. I felt it whenever we were close. I tasted it when he kissed me, and I just knew it deep in my heart.

Could a man love two women at once?

Did he?

I wanted to be his only love. Sometimes we didn’t always get want we wanted. I think I knew that better than most.

Standing there with my heart literally caught in my throat, chest tight, and mind overfull, I debated on what to do. I could wake them. Give them the breakfast I brought and maybe try and talk to Sadie.

Or I could go.

Slip out the door as if I were never even here. Let them wake up alone. Give them time. Givehimtime. He agonized over this girl for almost twelve years. It wasn’t a shock to see her in his arms.

But it hurt just the same.

I was going. This was awkward. I felt self-conscious and wounded. Since my stomach felt hollow, I decided to just leave the food. I remembered all too well what it was like to be in the hospital, starving for something real to eat. Sadie would appreciate the muffins and coffee.

I would even leave my hot chocolate in case she preferred that.

Creeping over with barely a sound, I cautiously slid the food and drink onto the bedside table. A quick glance beside me caught a vision I didn’t want, but would likely carry forever.

The two of them pressed close. Peaceful in sleep.

Quickly, I skidded away as though I were fleeing from a masked killer, in a hurry, but also not wanting him to hear.

The door made a loud creak when I opened it, which made me wince, but I didn’t turn back. I slipped out, slowly letting it close behind me, staying with it until it latched with no sound.

Heaving a deep breath, I leaned against it for a long moment, trying to compose myself. My heart pounded beneath my ribs, and I felt oddly out of breath.

A nurse turned the corner at the end of the hall, and I spun away, walking toward the elevators so I wouldn’t get caught in conversation. The tap-tap-tapping of my sneakers against the squeaky-clean tile floor was impatient. The ding of the elevator arriving seemed to take forever.

I stepped inside, thankful I was the only one in the car. Bracing my hands on the wall, I leaned my bowed head against it to look at the floor. Behind me, the doors began to close, so I pushed off, turned around, and watched the entrance to the hallway grow smaller.

Right before they shut completely, a flash of movement stunned me. An arm jammed through the narrow opening and damn near got crushed.

I gasped, covering both hands with my mouth, anticipating the doors snapping shut and the arm being lobbed off and landing at my feet.

My imagination needed a serious chill pill.

Instead of cutting off the arm, the doors bounced back open.

“Eddie!” I said, rushing forward. “Are you okay? Your arm!”

“You see that?” he asked. “Almost got it cut clean off.”

I smacked him. “That was stupid!”

He was standing in the hallway; I was still in the elevator. The doors began to close between us again. I squeaked and backed up. All this talk of dismembering made me paranoid.

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