Page 26 of All Her Broken Pieces

“I’m her boyfriend,” I say brightly, smirking at Bridget.

The look in her eyes is murderous. “He’s a friend,” she corrects through gritted teeth.

“Oh gosh,” Nurse Maggie starts, her face flush with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry. Your friend can wait for you in the family waiting area. The procedure shouldn’t take more than an hour and a half, barring any complications. I’m going to give you two a minute. They should be wheeling you back to surgery soon. If you need anything in the meantime, press the call button.”

As Nurse Maggie leaves the room, Bridget sits up taller in the bed and wraps her arms around her waist. The air feels like it’s been sucked from the room now that we’re alone. I give no fucks that someone assumed that I’m Bridget’s adult son. I mean, I don’t think she looks that much older than I do. But it definitely bothers Bridget. If she could compress herself into a smaller ball, she looks like she would. Her legs are now folded up against her chest as she wraps her arms around them.

“I can’t do this,” she whispers against her knees, pressing her eyes closed.

I stand and cross to the bed, placing a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. The procedure should be over quickly, and the nurse did say that it wasn’t likely to be cancer,” I reassure her.

Blowing out a deep breath, she continues speaking into her knees, eyes closed. “I’m not talking about the procedure.”

Fuck. That nurse spooked her. What little progress I’d made with her feels like dandelion seeds fluttering away in a spring breeze, so close you think you can grab hold but far enough out of reach to tease you with its presence. If that’s not Bridget in a nutshell, I don’t know what is.

“If you think that’s going to scare me off, think again, sweetheart. The only place I’m going is out to the waiting room. I’ll see you after surgery,” I promise, planting a kiss on her hairline. I pull back, and she squeezes her eyes closed. Turning toward the chair, I swipe her personal effects and start toward the door.

“Thank you,” she says in a voice so small and weak I almost can’t believe it’s coming from this powerful woman.

The minute my feet cross the threshold out of her room and into the hallway, a cold emptiness settles over me. It’s the same feeling I get when she lets go of my hand or leans away from my touch. In a few short weeks, Bridget has managed to find a place in my life and my heart, and I’ll be damned if I let anyone take that away from me, including her.

CHAPTER9

Bridget

The whirringand beeping of machines nudge my brain back into consciousness. My hands fly up to my eyes, like a bug zapper collecting mosquitos on a hot summer night. “Lights,” I croak, my throat dry and scratchy.

“Hey, beautiful.” Ethan’s soothing voice comes from his chair across the room. I hear a switch being flipped, but the brightness behind my eyes is still intense.

“More lights off,” I whisper. I feel a slight headache coming on and a dull ache in my abdomen.

“I can’t turn the sun off, sweetheart, but lemme see if closing these blinds helps.”

His sneakers make small squeaks on the polished hospital floor as he moves around the windows. At least, that’s what it sounds like is happening. The brightness behind my closed eyes lessens, but the ache persists. “Need anything else? Are you thirsty?”

“Water, please,” I croak, unable to hide the desperation in my voice.

I can hear him filling up a cup with water, but my eyes are still sensitive as I rub my fingers over them, pushing into the sockets.

“Here.” I feel Styrofoam against my lower lip as Ethan holds the cup up to my mouth.

“I can do it myself,” I scold as I feel for the cup with my fingers.

“There’s my favorite hellcat.” Even though my eyes are closed, I can feel that dimple with every word he says, his smile evident in his teasing words.

“Fuck you.”

“There won’t be any of that until the doctor says it’s okay.” I can feel his breath near the shell of my ear before his lips press against my cheek. “But you don’t have to do everything for yourself. I’m happy to help.”

I can feel the heat of his skin, but I refuse to open my eyes. This feels too intimate, too close. This is not the kind of encounter I should be having with someone I just met.

“Hello, Bridget. It’s Nurse Maggie. How are you feeling?”

Slowly, my eyes blink open and the nurse’s face comes into focus.

“I’m fine.”

“Honey, you just had surgery. You’re not fine, and that’s okay.”

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