Page 71 of Derek
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“Where is she?”I hear Derek’s booming voice as he marches down the halls of the hospital. I sigh with exhaustion while listening to the nurses telling him to calm down.
“Sir!” One says, her voice full of nervousness. I can’t blame her. Derek is a massive man with a short temper. “Your wife is in that room.”Wife?That felt uncomfortable to hear. I understood why he told them we were married. He needed to get back here faster. The door opens, and as soon as Derek’s rich brown eyes land on me, his entire body relaxes.
“Baby,” he whispers, and I try to give him a small smile, though I feel like I’m dying inside. He rushes to my bed, grabbing my face with his hands and kissing me softly. I don’t want to admit how much his kiss relaxes me.
“Should I go?” Janie asks from her seat in the corner. I’ll be honest, I completely forgot she was here. Derek breaks the kiss to turn and look at Janie.
“Yeah,” he states. “Quickly, if you don’t mind.” Janie narrows her eyes as she stands.
“I’ll let it slide for now, Rowe, but you’ll regret that attitude.” She gives me a smile and a wave before leaving the room. As soon as the door clicks shut, Derek’s lips are on mine again. His kiss is desperate, like he will lose me if he stops.
“Derek,” I pant as I back away. “I’m o-”
“Don’t,” he whispers while pressing his forehead against mine. “Darlin’, don’t lie… not to me.” Letting out a sigh, I pull back and rest my head on the pillow.
“Derek, this is common for me. I’ll probably be out of here tomorrow. Realistically, they are only keeping me overnight because I had a nasty panic attack, and they gave me some nice drugs. Seriously, they should give it to everybody because I feel amazing.” He gives me a breathy laugh and sits on the edge of my bed.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he whispers, and it breaks my heart.
“I was hanging out with my friends. Why would you be there?”
He groans and stands. “I don’t know, Indy! I just feel like, as a boyfriend, I am supposed to be there to help… Why are you laughing?”
I let out a very unladylike snort. Who decided snorts are unladylike anyway? I am a lady, I can’t control the snort. How is that my fault? It’s like the whole farting thing. Why is a bodily function considered “unladylike”? Men get to walk around feeling amazing all the time. Meanwhile, we have to hold in our farts? If that isn’t some misogynistic bullshit.
“Indy?” Derek’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. “Where in the fuck did you go?” He laughs awkwardly, and I frown at him.
“You men and your unconscious misogyny are why we have stomach aches.” I huff out. Derek looks around the room.
“Ooookay? Do you have a stomach ache?”
“No, but I could have one!” I grumble as I watch him sit in the chair closest to the bed.
“Okay, baby girl, I am at a loss here. How can my unconscious misogyny possibly cause you a stomachache?”
I let out an exasperated breath. “Because! If I need to fart, I can’t because of the patriarchy.” Derek tries to hold back his laughter, but it comes out, and I hide my grin. That’s much better. I can’t stand seeing him so upset. If I have to act high and goofy to see his smile, then so be it because he doesn’t deserve to feel sad, guilty, or worried. Not ever, but definitely not over me. Though, he and I will need to talk about that whole “boyfriend” thing he just dropped in my lap later.
Chapter30
Derek
“How is she?” Ash’s voice causes me to jump and slosh hot coffee on my hand. Well, almost hot. That fucking machine must’ve been broken.
“She’s acting fine,” I mutter, cleaning up the spill. “Cracking jokes and making the staff fall in love with her. I think the doctor is supposed to be releasing her in the next couple of hours.” Thank god, because last night was terrible. I sat in the fucking chair and stared at Indy the entire night. I tried my hardest not to. I knew without a doubt that if she woke up and caught me, she would scream at me to get my ass out. But I couldn’t stop. All I could think was how could I fix this for her, make this easier. I’ve done some reading on MS, but not nearly enough, I’m ashamed to say. I realize that there isn’t a cure, but I also know that there are things that Indy could be doing that could help her relapse.
“How come Indy isn’t in physical therapy?” I ask Ash as we walk down the hall toward Indy’s room. “They mentioned her low Vitamin D levels, and she just shrugged. And I read she should be eating a balanced diet.”
“Because,” Ash lets out an exhausted breath. “Indy has been sick and has given up a lot. So, now that she’s ‘on her own,’ she is rebelling. When she lived in the apartments with me, she had a sleeping schedule, rarely had junk food, and no caffeine unless she snuck it. She worked out, and that included a stepper. The relapse at the shop last year when she had the accident took away her ability to do the stairs. I think that since then, she’s been angry.” He pauses as he thinks for a moment. “Well, angry on the inside. Indy did everything right, and she still ended up losing part of her independence. So, in my opinion, she’s pissed off. Even if she’s smiling. Depression and anxiety are very common in people with MS. It’s a shitty disease.”
I stare at him as I absorb his words. “What.” I cough to clear the frog out of my throat and try to speak again. “What can I do to help her?” Ash’s eyes narrow slightly, and he takes a deep breath.
“Virginia, if you hurt her–”
“If I hurt her, trust me, I will hand myself over to you.”
“I can’t believe you are with my happiness and light sister. I feel like I’m being pranked.” He grumbles.
