Page 63 of Living on the Edge

This sort of makes up for the lack of post-coital cuddling the other night.

Sort of.

I must have dozed off on the ride to the hospital because I’m currently on a bed and there are bright lights, nurses asking me questions, and an unexpectedly painful pinch in the arm that makes me cry out.

“We’re taking a little blood so we can see what’s going on,” a nurse says. “Are you cold, sweetie?”

I nod, and a blanket appears as if by magic.

“We’ve got her from here,” the nurse tells Angus. “If you’d like to go out to the waiting?—”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says in a firm voice.

“Angus?” I reach out my hand, and he quickly takes it.

“All right. The doctor will be in soon.”

The nurse leaves, and Angus scoots a little closer, squeezing my hand tightly. I drift off, grateful for his strength and his presence. I’ve never felt as alone as I have the last couple of days.

When I open my eyes again, I’m not sure how much time has passed, but he’s still standing next to me holding my hand.

“Thank you…for this.” I look up at him.

“I owed you one,” he says, meeting my gaze. “I was an ass the other night. I’m sorry about how I behaved after we…made love.”

I want to tell him it’s okay, but it’s not.

It was hurtful.

Rude.

Unnecessary.

We agreed it was nothing but sex.

I was okay with that.

But him walking out afterward without even saying goodbye?

Totally fucked up.

“Iknow,” he says, watching my face. “I was a total dick.”

I’m not sure how to answer, and I’m saved from having to by the doctor arriving.

“Hello. I’m Dr. Perkins.” A guy of about forty comes in and starts talking to us.

Sinus infection.

Double ear infection.

Ruptured eardrum.

Dehydration.

Strong antibiotics.

IV fluids.

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