Page 105 of Broken Bridges

After being dismissed from the hospital, Cole dropped me off at the house near one o’clock. Not wanting to burden him, I sent him back to his meetings. I’d survived for months on my own with a broken leg; I could do the same with a sprained ankle. I had crutches. I could run a fucking marathon with those things.

But as the drugs wore off, the crippling pain in my ankle returned. I grabbed an ice pack for my ankle, clambered up the stairs, popped some of my strong painkillers, and crawled into bed. I tugged the pillow underneath my head then drew the quilt over me, hugging it beneath my chin. After the emotional and tiring day, my eyelids grew heavy. With the drugs fogging my mind, I drifted off to sleep.

A soft knock on my bedroom door woke me. I glanced at the clock. Fuck. It was eleven in the evening. Where had the day gone? Sitting upright, I rubbed my bleary eyes. Lewis tiptoed to my side in his pajamas and placed his cell phone on my nightstand. He sank onto the bed and wrapped his arms around me. “You okay? You didn’t return my texts this afternoon.”

“Sorry.” I wiped my hand down my face. “I took some strong painkillers. They zonked me out.”

“Sure did. You haven’t moved an inch since we got home. Cole and I have been checking on you to make sure you’re still alive. He’s gone to bed. I came to check on you one last time before I crashed.” He stroked my hair. “I’m glad your ankle isn’t broken.”

“Me too. But it’s not good. I might need more surgery.” I flicked the quilt off my legs and unwrapped the heavy towel and no-longer-cold ice pack from around my ankle. After tossing them on the ground, I crawled out of bed, used the bathroom, and returned to the covers.

Lewis slid his hand up and down my bare thigh. “Cole told me what the doctor said. Are you going to have the surgery? It’ll be a long recovery.”

“Does that bother you?” I grabbed another painkiller off my nightstand, knocked it down with a mouthful of water from the glass, and wiped my mouth on the back of my hand.

“No. Why would it?”

I sucked in a deep breath as I closed my eyes. My heart cried. “Because I’d be out of action for months. It might not make any difference to my ankle. Even then, it’s never going to be perfect. I’m always going to be injured. Limp. Hobble. Be an invalid.”

“Tee, your injury has never bothered me.” He shuffled closer and looped his arms around me again, drawing me to his chest. “I’m here for you. Whatever you decide to do.”

I sniffled against his white T-shirt. “I may end up with more scars. I’ll never wear short skirts and tiny dresses like most girls do.” Not that I ever had.

He chuckled, then kissed the top of my head. “Have you not learned anything about me? Pants are kinda my thing.”

My heart twisted and tensed. I didn’t want his jokes, or quick wit or sympathy and pity. I pushed off his chest to sit upright. “I was a fool to believe I was getting better. I shouldn’t have gone dancing or parasailing or had crazy sex or run onset today. My ankle wasn’t healed enough. It wasn’t strong enough. Now I’m hurt again.”

He clutched and squeezed my hand. “Today was a freak accident. You’ll be okay.”

“I won’t ever be able to do the things you and the guys love doing. I can’t run, or snowboard, or ride a fucking bike. I can’t even drive. I don’t ever want to hold you back.”

“You’re not.” He caressed the side of my head. “Stop this crazy talk. I’m not going anywhere.”

My shoulders slumped. “Why do you care so much?”

“Because I’m yours. I hated not being by your side today. I’m tired of hiding. I want to tell the others we’re together. Tomorrow.”

“We can’t. I have night shoots for the rest of the week.” I rubbed at the tension throbbing in my temple. “We have to wait till the weekend. Please?”

He drew my hand away from my face. “Aren’t you sure about us? A few days won’t make a difference, will it?” Anguish swallowed the silver shards in his eyes.

Today had made a difference.

I wasn’t the same as I had been that morning.

The concept of undergoing more surgery, repeating the past twelve months of recovery, and having to start again had messed with my head. Crap. I cupped his cheek. His soft, barely-there stubble tickled my fingertips. “It’s just been a crappy day. Please. Just wait.”

The light faded in his eyes. Shaking his head, he lowered his chin. “Shit. It has. I’m sorry. I was just worried about you and hated not being with you. Of course we’ll wait. But that’s it, Tee. Not another day longer.” He squeezed and rubbed my hand. “For now, you get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” As I lay down, he pulled the quilt over my waist and gave me a quick kiss on the forehead.

He stood and went to step away, but I caught his arm. “Lew?” My head wasn’t in a good space. My foot throbbed. I cared for him so much. I didn’t want to think about the future, the past, or risking my heart on a new relationship. I just wanted the here and now. “Can you hold me? For five minutes.”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. I can do that.”

He crawled under the covers and drew me into his embrace. With his heart beating a steady rhythm beneath my ear, the warmth of his body surrounded me. The scent of his skin intoxicated me. This was good. Being in his arms calmed me. When we were together...alone...nothing could hurt us, and no one harassed us.

This was what I wanted. Just him.

Why couldn’t we stay like this forever?

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