“Yes, Tristan. We can’t stay with our parents anymore. It isn’t safe.”
By the worry lines on her brow, she’s aware enough to realize the war she’s tried so hard to avoid has already begun. The moment Otello Tempe put his hands on her was the moment Horatio Achilles lost everything.
I will show him no mercy.
A nurse clears her throat near the door. I turn to find her waiting with her finger hovering over the light switch. Her not-so-subtle reminder of Dr. Karl’s order for Aurora to rest proves I’ve chosen the right medical practitioner. He’s ensured his staff remain focused on the patient’s needs.
“I’ll go change in the bathroom,” Tristan says.
“We have a shower in the on-call suite. I can take you there if you want a quick one,” the nurse says.
Tristan shakes his head, but Aurora encourages him to go. He reluctantly follows the nurse into the hall.
The moment the woman closes the door behind them, Aurora’s breath hitches. I lean down and cup her face, but she digs her nails into my hand and closes her eyes.
“You should change before he comes back,” she whispers through a throat thick with tears. I kiss her brow and caress her cheek with my thumb before rising and unfastening my belt.
No matter how awkward it may be to undress with only one hand, I refuse to release my grip on her, so I shuck out of my ruined trousers and boxer briefs and pull on the scrub bottoms without letting her go.
She watches me with too many emotions to name. Pride. Sadness. Relief. Love.
I give my chest and abs a quick wipe down with the sponge bath items waiting on the bedside tray and towel dry before picking up the scrub shirt.
No matter how hard I try, I cannot let go of her hand. Even if she pushed me away, I wouldn’t be able to release her.
I almost lost her.
Sorrow fills her expression. I drop the shirt and cup the side of her face with my hand.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I’m sorry, Giorgio,” she whispers.
Tears spill from her lashes.
“Hush,mia topolina. You have nothing to be sorry for,” I murmur.
She closes her eyes, shakes her head, and winces, reminding me of the contusion on the back of her head, but before I cancall Dr. Karl back in to check her, she pierces my soul with her sparkling emerald orbs.
“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. You don’t deserve this.”
The agony shining from her eyes is too much. Despite the doctor’s orders, I need her in my arms, so I slide under the sheet, replace her pillow with my arm, and carefully intertwine our bodies.
“You’re right, I don’t deserve you. You’re too sweet for me. Too smart. Too honest and pure. But there’s no way in hell I’m letting you go. I need you, Aurora.”
“But I can’t give you what you need,” she says through a half sob.
“I’ve told you what I need. It’s you. Only you.”
She shakes her head and digs her nails into my shoulder.
“I should never have signed official paperwork, not without telling you I’m sick. If you’d known I was chronically ill—”
I release her hand and wrap my fist around her throat. When I tilt her face up to mine, the misery swimming in her soul shines through her eyes.
“I would have married you anyway, Aurora. You’re mine. No one else can have you.”
“But I can’t give you an heir! It could take years for me to conceive, and even then, there’s no guarantee I’d carry to term. The entire pregnancy will be high risk, and—”