Page 65 of Snowed In on Valentine's Day

“The doctor will be back to discuss the test results.” This nurse was all business, not even offering a smile as she left.

I stood up to stretch my legs and walk around a bit before returning to his bedside. “Peter, I know you’re a man of few words, but … talk to me.” I gave him an imploring look. “Your vitals look good, and thank goodness for that. But how are youfeeling?”

He stared at me for a long time before his lips finally parted for a moment before speaking. “I’m not great with words.”

My lips curved into a smile. “It’s OK. I’m getting used to that, you know. How about I just assume you’re feeling pretty good compared to last night … you were really out of it. I was so worried, Peter. But now, you look almost like my usual grumpy neighbor.” I laughed, hoping to convey I was teasing, a little.

“Your assumption is largely correct.”

But the air felt tense between us, and I wasn’t sure why. Deciding I should try to distract him a bit, I chatted for a while about the book I’d started reading on my phone during the night and even told him about the new phone game I started playing, even though I knew he couldn’t care less.

“Those games always seemed like such a waste of time to me,” he said.

I chuckled. “Yes. They are a waste of time, but sometimes wasting time is what you need to do. Does that make sense? After all, I had many hours to kill last night.”

“Why?”

“Well, this chair wasn’t really conducive to sleep, though I did eventually doze, I guess. Not that I’m complaining—I mean, I’m not the one admitted—”

His eyes widened. “You spent the entire night?”

As I nodded, I wondered if that was presumptuous of me. “You may not remember, but last night, you asked me to stay—”

“I do remember. I just didn’t expect you to stay the whole night.”

My face flamed. He was right; he hadn’t specified that. I just wouldn’t have felt right slipping out while he was asleep, not knowing his prognosis and not knowing if he wanted me to stay. But now, in the cold light of day, it was clear I didn’t have any right to stay the night. “Oh, sorry, I misunderstood,” I said quietly, looking away.

He reached out and clutched my hand then, causing a warmth to shoot up my arm and straight to my heart. “Don’t apologize.”

When my eyes returned to him, I nearly gasped at the intensity in his eyes. He was grateful, I assumed; perhaps he’d never had a friend or even family member who cared enough to stay with him in the hospital. It was sad. And yet … I couldn’t pin it down, but it wasn’t sadness I saw in his eyes.

I had to ask.

It was probably the worst time—if there was ever a good time—but I needed to know.

I gently let go of his hand and breathed in and out slowly. “Um, I did have a question. Why didn’t you tell the nurse lastnight that I’m not your girlfriend?” I heard my voice shake a bit and hoped he didn’t notice.

He shrugged, and his face held the usual stoic expression. “Why would I?”

My voice was incredulous. “Uh, because I’m not?” That was a good reason, wasn’t it?

His warm gaze swept over my face slowly. “Well, what are you then?”

I inhaled sharply. Oh my—what was he implying?

Wiping my sweaty hands on my pants, I swallowed with serious effort. “I’m your friend, Peter.”

His stoic expressionstilldidn’t change as he uttered the words I never expected to hear. “I think we both know you’re more than a friend, Hazel.”

My jaw dropped, and then my lips began to quiver.

Did he mean—

I had to have heard him wrong. Or misunderstood … but what else could it mean?

Maybe he meant we were not just friends butbestfriends. But that didn’t seem likely either. We’d only known each other a few weeks and … something about his face told me that wasn’t his meaning.

“Wha–what about Valentine’s Day?” I stammered. “You … you hated that we spent it together. Stormed out of my house, even.”

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