Page 67 of Love Sick

“I can’t leave you like this. I’ll think of something.”

“The only way she’ll let her guard down is if she thinks she’s won,” Luna wisely says. “She did with you, didn’t she?”

Luna is right.

The more I’ve “let her in,” the less she’s treated me like a prisoner.

“I won’t pretend with her like that. I can’t. I know that makes me weak, but—”

“It’s far from weak,” she interrupts, leaning forward as far as she can and nuzzling into my neck. “I couldn’t stand it. I have another idea. Daddy.”

I tense because I know she’s right. But that doesn’t mean I like it an iota.

“If they think they need us, we’re safe. I’ll do what I have to but please know, it’s all just pretend.”

“Why can’t we just try our luck and kill them both?”

She glances behind her, at her cuffed wrists, then to my bandaged knee. “We only have one chance at this.”

“I just can’t stand seeing you treated this way.”

“I’ve been through worse…like when I thought you were dead.”

The perpetual cloud of sadness just grows heavier. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And I mean it.

I place a quick kiss to her lips before standing and commence drying off as I hear Alanna’s footsteps approaching. When she enters, I see she holds a stack of clothes.

I hobble from the room and go to my room so I can get dressed in there.

Alanna follows, offering me the clothes.

Again, she has brought things I would usually wear. Before I can slip into the black jeans, however, she gestures to the bed.

“I’ll change your bandage.”

Alanna conveniently didn’t pack any boxers, so I sit down, ensuring the towel stays tucked around my waist so I’m covered. She reaches for her medical bag and retrieves what she needs. As she’s cutting through the bandage, I watch her work with interest.

Her hands have helped so many, but they’ve also destroyed. I hate her for what she’s done, but I can’t help but feel like her life is such a waste. She could have done so much good in the world, if not for the fact that she’s fucking insane.

“You and Daddy look…close,” I opt for instead of stating the obvious, which is incestuous.

She doesn’t reply, which means this topic is off limits.

She removes the bandage, and I peer down at my knee which is actually better than I expected it to be. “How long will I need the crutches for?”

I know this isn’t Alanna’s forte, but she seems to be a jack of all medical trades.

“I think you should be able to put some weight on it in a week or so. But you’ll have to take it easy. You don’t want to overexert yourself before the concert.”

“Why is this concert so important to you?”

Alanna rubs some ointment on my knee before unraveling a new bandage and commences wrapping it tightly. I wait for her to reply, but I can see she’s stalling.

“Alanna?”

“It’s not important to me,” she finally replies, eyes still focused on bandaging my knee. “It’s important for you to see that no matter what you think of me, I was able to help make history. This concert will change your life because word has spread of your heart transplant and when they witness your talent, you’ll be able to play piano at any venue, in any part of the world of your choosing because everyone loves a happy ending.

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