Page 44 of Still The One

‘No flirting,’ she quips.

‘Inyour apartment – your words. Technically, we’re outside of it so flirting is allowed.’

‘You’ve made sub-rules to my one rule?’

I nod. ‘Morphine thoughts.’

‘Fine,’ she laughs. ‘Get it all out while you can. I’ll probably regret this, but flirt away.’

Excitement bubbles within me, overpowering the pain I’m feeling on this walk. ‘If I could rub my hands together with anticipation right now, I would. Your breakfast was to die for, thank you.’

‘Flirting with manners – nice.’

‘Don’t get too hopeful,’ I say. ‘I’m just getting started. Are you aware that you’ve gotten prettier since I saw you last?’

‘Maybe chronically tired is my look?’

‘Somethingis doing it for you. You’re a damn smoke show and I won’t be surprised when I get caught ogling you as you clean one day.’

‘You’re ogling me behind my back?’

‘I am,’ I admit with a wide smile.

‘And you’re proud of it,’ she says, leading me along the hall. ‘OK then, well, I hope you get a good look because you’ll have to stop once caught – those are the rules.’

‘Fair enough,’ I say, admiring her for a few steps. ‘Seriously, Jellybean, I’ve missed you. I always knew, but being with you in person, that’s really driving it home here,’ I say, touching my chest. ‘And also, here.’ I point to my head, stopping her in her tracks.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Medication-laced dreams help our past echo through my subconscious while I sleep. Every moment my eyes are closed, I’m dreaming of us.’

For a moment she stares at me with hope in her eyes, and a silent conversation happening that her face can’t hide. Her brows furrow and she shakes her head. ‘Foster, there is no “us” any more.’

Ouch. The morphine isn’t strong enough for that sort of rejection.

‘I think I’m ready for bed again.’

‘OK,’ she says, guiding me back towards her door.

We don’t speak – because I made it weird by allowing morphine to choose my words. But she deserves to hear what I’m really thinking, doesn’t she? I mean the woman is voluntarily nursing me back to health. Which I will make right when this is over. But now that my head is somewhat clear, I’m realizing that what I lost five years ago was so much more than I’ve allowed myself to remember up to now. I can’t pretend it’s not.

‘I’m having them too,’ she says almost under her breath as she hands me the cup containing my meds.

My hand is partially around hers for the shot glass exchange when she says it, and with her words, I hold it there.

‘You’re having what?’

‘Dreams. Flashbacks. About us.’

‘Really?’ I ask, taking the cup as she pushes it into my palm.

She stands from the bed, handing me a bottle of water from a little snack and drink area she’s made on her dresser top. Staying with her is more like a five-star hotel than a hospital. I guess now I see why. She’s dreaming of me.

‘Yes. And I didn’t want to mention it because I thought it would be weird.’

‘Is it?’ I ask at her pause.

She shrugs, suddenly twisting a ring on her thumb. ‘I don’t know. I really don’t know.’

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