Page 105 of The Devil's Torment

“Remarkably well for a woman on the verge of death a few hours ago.” He smiles, and I think it’s meant to reassure me, but I need facts, not sympathy.

“What about amputation?” Even saying the word makes me want to puke.

“The infection is receding. Her last blood tests are encouraging.”

“You’re saying she won’t die, and she won’t lose her arms or her legs?”

“That’s correct. In time, she should make a full recovery. She’s a fortunate woman.”

The crushing fear that’s been eating me alive dissolves, leaving me lightheaded with relief, and the hot sting of fresh tears rushes to my eyes. I’ve cried more in the last twenty-four hours than in the previous three decades.

She’s going to be okay. My wife isn’t going to die or suffer from life-changing consequences because of a selfless gift to her selfish sister.

“Why isn’t she awake?”

“She’s still under sedation. We’ll begin withdrawing those drugs shortly. Once we do, she should wake in an hour, give or take. If you wanted to freshen up, now’s the time.”

“No.” Until I look into her pretty hazel eyes and hear her sweet voice, I’m going nowhere.

“As you wish.” He retreats, and it’s just us again, but this time it’s different.

On shaky legs, I stand and lean over to kiss her forehead.

I haven’t lost her. She’s coming home with me, where she belongs.

If I were a benevolent man, I’d call Laura and Phillip and tell them their eldest daughter is going to make it.

But I’m not.

So I don’t.

Screw them both. They can suffer for a little while longer.

I don’t give a fuck.

ChapterThirty-Five

VICKY

Spending four weeks in the hospital when the plan was to be there for three to five days feels like losing a huge chunk of my life—one I’ll never get back.

It’s been a nightmare.

Eloise asked me the other day if I’d known what would happen, would I have still donated a kidney to Beth. I told her I didn’t know, and I still don’t.

The one piece of luck I’ve had is how understanding Anthony Davidson has been. He could have easily hired someone else for the renovations on his holiday home, but he told me, in no uncertain terms, that both he and his wife are happy to wait until I’m fully recovered. It’s more than I hoped for. My business hasn’t exactly had the most auspicious of starts, and if Anthony wasn’t my first client, a setback like this could have snuffed it out before it had even begun.

Beth has visited me almost every day since she was discharged six days after her surgery. Unlike me, she had no complications. On each occasion, she cried, telling me how sorry she was. Contracting sepsis wasn’t her fault, but she’s carrying the weight of that guilt just the same. If the roles were reversed, I would, too.

Nicholas could not have been more attentive. For the first week he slept by my bedside, and if I stirred, he was there, stroking my hair, murmuring comforting words.

Except the three I always assumed mattered the most.

These days, I’m not sure it’s as important to me as it once was. Maybe he’ll never say he loves me, but every action shows me that he does, and although I thought I needed him to fall in love with me to feel like I was his number one, I know that I am. I don’t need the extra validation.

Saying goodbye to the nurses who’ve taken such good care of me is harder than I thought it would be. A month in a confined environment is enough time to grow close to strangers, and I have, but at the same time, I can’t wait to go home. I’ve missed Penny. She probably doesn’t even remember me. I’ve been away from her three times as long as I was with her. Still, there’s time to put that right.

A crisp blast of February air hits my cheeks as Nicholas wheels me outside the hospital. It’s hard to believe I missed almost the entire month of January. I pull the winter coat closer around me and shiver.

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