Page 19 of Declan's Hope

"No. I guess I don’t see." He turned his gaze up at the doctor. "There’s more, right?"

The doctor nodded. "The surgeons in Tucson had to perform an enucleation."

Declan frowned. He’d heard the term before, but he needed him to explain it in layman’s terms, which he almost immediately did.

"The eye had to be removed."

The eye.

His eye.

A quiet, shuddering breath left Hope and he finally looked at her. What he saw in her liquid gaze sent a chill through him.

Pity.

Was that why she’d stayed? Because she felt sorry for him? Was the kiss nothing more than sympathy on her part to just make him feel better?

He didn’t need her pity. And he didn’t need her. Not like that.

"Hope," he said, holding her gaze and tugging his hand from her tight grip. Confusion quickly replaced the pity. "I think the doctor’s right. We have a lot to discuss, and I think it’s better we do it alone."

With each of his words, her cheeks paled. She pulled her hand back and stood, then licked her lips. God, why did she have to do that? Then she nodded. "Okay, I’ll come back later then."

"No." Her eyes widened, their depths filling with hurt. He took some perverse pleasure from that. Better her hurt than having her look at him like some kind of charity case. "I think it’s best that you don’t."

"Tomorrow, then?"

He didn’t answer as he held her gaze. From her falling features and hard swallow, he didn’t have to. She had gotten his meaning.

She took a sidestep back, bumping into the arm of the chair, her cheeks blooming with color. "O…Okay. If that’s what you want."

"It is."

She dropped his gaze, then went behind the chair and stooped down. When she straightened, she held the strap of a big-ass leather purse in her white-knuckled grip. "Goodbye, Declan," she said, then turned and fast-walked out of the room, the overhead light glinting off the golden highlights in her hair before the door closed behind her. And then she was gone.

Gone from his life.

"Are you sure you just did the right thing?" Dr. Hall asked as he spared a glance at the door and then down at him. "Emotions run high in these situations and hasty decisions will sometimes be regretted later."

Declan gave one long look at the closed door, then hardened his heart. He’d never been anything to her anyhow. He met the doctor’s questioning gaze.

"Positive. Now. What else do I need to know?"

* * *

"You can leave too, Mercy," Declan groused after his dad had stomped out of the room with his mother chasing behind him. His twin sister didn’t budge from her spot in the chair beside his bed. Although she did take the time to give him a mock-sweet smile full of sass—her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. Then she snorted, muttering, "As if," while turning her attention back to the case file she’d been reading.

He grimaced at her bent head and shining black hair. Stubborn as always. Mercy had never been one to put up with any of his shit before. So, why bother throwing it at her now?

He knew she meant well. Just like his parents. Just like the team. Just like Haven and Destiny. Well, the latter two, maybe not so much.

Of course Hope hadn’t been back. He hadn’t expected she would be. And he was happy with that.

He was.

It had been eight days since he’d woken up from what Dr. Hall had informed him had been a two-day coma. Eight days of no Hope, while the four walls of this room had begun closing in on him. And, no, walks up and down the hallway didn’t count as getting out of the room.

He stared up at the small crack in the ceiling he’d found yesterday. Still the same. Just like he was still the same each morning when he woke up. Doctors, nurses, the whole fucking place—all the same. And he was about to go stir crazy.

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