Page 53 of The Secret Of Us

“I’m a crying mess.”

“You’ve been dealing with a lot. It’s okay to let it out,” he whispers, his thumb running back and forth across my head. I look back at him again, and his face is completely sincere. “If it takes a hard fall for that to happen, then it just means you’ve been strong for too long.”

“I don’t feel very strong,” I confess quietly, too scared to put too much volume to the feelings that have been worrying me for the past few weeks.

“You are,” he says firmly. “But you don’t have to be, if you don’t want to. I can help you. Let me help you.” His voice is low and pleading.

I want to give in to him so badly, have him take all these worries away from me so I can get rid of the pressure on my chest and breathe for a second.

My chin quivers, and Noah continues stroking my hair, keeps calming me like no one else has before. He kisses my hand again, rubs small circles across the back of it. All I can do is nod, agreeing to whatever he’s asking from me. I want him to help me. I want to tell him all my secrets. I want him to figure it all out for me. I want to stop worrying.

“Okay, first take these,” the nurse says as she reenters the room and hands me the painkillers and a small cup of water. I take it from her and prop myself up just enough to swallow them down as she continues. “We need to get you cleaned up, and get this ankle looked at.”

Noah keeps his head close to mine. Even when she approached us, he didn’t move a single inch.

“Why don’t you help me?” she says, placing her hand on Noah’s shoulder.

It takes him a couple of seconds before he finally drags his eyes away from me to look up at her. She holds out a bottle of solution and some cotton pads to him, and he sits up to take them. “Just dab a bit on there and pat it on her face where the scratches are. It might sting a little,” she warns me.

Noah looks back at me, a silent question in his worried eyes.

“It’s okay,” I reassure him. “I want you to do it.”

He gives me a quick but wary smile before he follows her instructions, dampening the cotton pad before lifting it to my face.

“I’m sorry,” he says, wincing as he lightly presses it to my face. It stings, but it doesn’t feel any worse than everything else that’s happened.

Noah works quickly but delicately, changing the cotton pad whenever it turns from white to pink. He murmurs apologies and reassurances every time he touches my face, his free hand cradling my cheek as he holds me.

The nurse is focused on my ankle, elevating it with some pillows before poking and prodding at it. I know I should be feeling it more, that the pain from earlier hasn’t just disappeared, but all I can focus on is Noah. The only thing I can feel is his eyes on me, lighting me up from the inside.

He moves his face closer to mine, inspecting his work before he surprises me again with another kiss. This time, to my jaw, right below all the scratches, like he can kiss it and make it all better.

“All done,” he says, the corners of his lips tugged upward in a soft smile as he pulls back.

“Thank—“

I don’t get to finish what I’m saying because he shakes his head, not accepting any kind of gratitude for what he’s doing.

“Can I do your knees?” he asks, and I nod in response.

He stands up and gathers the small pile of crumpled cotton pads, throwing them away before getting fresh ones. He sits back down, shuffling his chair down so he’s closer to my legs and repeats the same process he did on my face. Tender touches as he wipes away all the mess and hurt.

I wonder if he can do that for the rest of me, too.

“It doesn’t seem broken, so more than likely it’s just a sprain. Don’t put any weight on it, and keep it elevated whenever you can.” She stands up, gathering the new pile Noah has created and throwing them away. “I’ll grab some crutches, and you can head back to your room.”

She steps away for a second, rummaging in one of the cupboards, before she pulls out some plasters and hands them to Noah.

“Put these on her knees. Her face isn’t as bad, so she doesn’t need any on there. It should clear up in a few days, dear,” she says before she leaves the room.

Noah does as he’s told again. His fingers move lightly as he places the bandage on my knees, gently pressing down on the adhesive to make sure he doesn’t hurt me in the process.

“Feeling better?” he asks once he’s finished.

Noah moves his chair back up so he can rest his chin close to my head again. His long eyelashes flutter as he gives me that fond smile, and I notice how pretty he really is for the first time.

“Yeah,” I tell him, and I mean it.

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