Page 18 of Forbidden Dark Vows

“Do you need to call your mom?” I ask her. “Let her know that you’re okay?”

She nods. “I’ll go call her now.” She sounds as if there’s nothing she would rather do less, but I guess I’m imagining it.

Ruby opens the door, and Ronnie bounds in bringing with him a sprinkling of snow as he removes his hat and shakes his head. “It’s Baltic out there.” His gaze flits between me and Ruby, and he says, “Fuck, man, look at the state of you.”

“Great to see you, too.”

I’m glad he’s here, even if it does mean that I have to share Ruby with him. Ronnie is a reminder that the world still exists outside this hospital room, even if it will never be the same again. He takes off his coat and drapes it over the back of one of the visitor chairs.

“I’ll leave you to it.” The nurse completes the chart at the foot of the bed and leaves, warning Ronnie that I still need rest and no excitement.

“How did you get here?” I ask him when we’re alone.

“Sled.” His expression is deadpan, and then his face breaks into a grin. “Seriously, man, how are you feeling? I’d have come sooner, but…” He puffs up his cheeks and wipes his forehead with the sleeve of his sweater.

“Ask me again when I get out of here.”

“Have they said how long you’ll have to stay?”

“I haven’t asked.”

I don’t want to talk about me. I don’t want to tell him that every single bone in my body feels as if it has been broken in two and glued back together again, and that my head feels like a bowling ball. I want to talk about Ruby because this might be the worst thing that has ever happened to me, but it has bizarrely thrown us together. Which also makes it the best thing that has ever happened to me.

As if reading my mind, he glances at the door. “Who was that woman I passed in the doorway? She looks familiar.”

“Her name is Ruby Jackson. She’s the woman I’m going to marry.”

Ronnie is silent for a moment and then he starts chuckling. “Okay. What drugs have they been giving you? For a moment there, it sounded like you said you’re going to marry her.”

“I am. I’ve already proposed.”

“And?”

“And… She said the same as you. She thinks I’ve already forgotten about it.”

Ronnie sits heavily in the chair and rests his elbows on his knees. “That’s not quite the conversation I expected to have when I came in.”

“She’ll be back soon. I want you to help me show her that I’m serious.”

He studies me for several moments, trying to work out if I’m high or delirious or both. “Ask her again. Keep asking her until she says yes.”

“I don’t want to … bully her into accepting.”

Ronnie rubs his chin with his hand. “You’re actually serious about this.” I nod, and he adds, “I’m not sure I’m the best person to give advice on marriage proposals. I still haven’t plucked up the courage to ask Sumaira.”

“But you will.”

Frown lines crease his forehead. “How long have you two known each other?”

“Two days. Maybe more, depending on how long I’ve been in here.” I swallow, my throat feeling like sandpaper. “We met at the skating rink on Friday.”

Ronnie blinks. “She was at the party with—” He freezes, the color draining from his face. “Why don’t you give yourself time to heal, see how you feel when this is over and you’re back in New York.”

“It won’t change my mind.”

“You’re sure about this?”

“I’m sure.”

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