“Lay it on me, Doc,” I said dramatically. “I’m contagious, aren’t I?”
He huffed again and moved the chair to the side of the bed. “No, but you’re dramatic as fuck. And I think it’s terminal.”
Those whiskey-brown eyes sparkled in a way that was familiar as a well-worn pair of shoes. And there was that little smile playing on his lips, the one he got when he thought he was being clever. A pang of intense longing hit me in the chest so unexpectedly that it was almost physical.
“I missed you,” I blurted.
His smile slowly faded. He didn’t return the sentiment. Instead, he fished around in his pocket until he pulled out a pack of M&Ms. “I brought you these. I don’t know if you know this, but they’re your favorite.”
It took me a few seconds to swallow around the lump in my throat, mostly because he’d taken my heartfelt sentiment and tossed it in the trash. I didn’t need to remember how it felt to hurt—Gray was more than happy to deal that to me in spades. I reminded myself that I owed him. If it wasn’t for Gray, I would still be named Joe Doe after Nurse Brenda’s fucking cat.
I took the pack of M&Ms and ripped them open. I shook out a palmful of the colorful candies and tossed them in my mouth. It was probably the best bite I’d had since I’d opened my irritable eyes on the operating table. I tossed back some more candies and crunched for a little while. Artificial happiness in a cellophane bag. Only the pack was small and, from the feel of things, my joy was coming to an end rather shortly.
“I wonder what other candies I like?” I asked hopefully.
Gray’s smile was back. “I don’t know, little extortionist. Maybe I’ll bring you something later on tonight.”
“So you’ll be back?”
I felt the strangeness of my question deep down in my soul. I guessed that fit with the rest of my existence. I’d woken up in a place where I had to ask if my boyfriend was coming back to see me or not.
“Of course I will.”
As we chatted, I tried not to think about the fact that I’d said I missed him, and he never responded in kind.
I spent much of the next few days being wheeled from one room to the next. I had scans in the morning to make sure my injury was healing properly—it was—and then they wheeled me off to physical therapy. Around lunchtime, I had a well-earned lunch. I’d been given the green light to progress from the turkey sandwich part of the menu to the teriyaki stir-fry, and it was delicious. Afterward, I saw Dr. Michaels, who assured me I would be discharged in no time. When I queried about what the fuck “no time” meant, he was properly evasive.
I hadn’t seen Gray for three days. I heard his name called over the loudspeaker once, so I knew he was in the building. I’d stopped wondering why he was acting strange and why he didn’t want to seem to get all that close. Clearly, something had happened between us, and he didn’t want to upset me by bringing it up. The fact that my partner of six years was now virtually a stranger added to the growing pit of unease in my stomach. I wasn’t me, and Gray wasn’t Gray. Which left us where exactly?
“Thought you could use some company.”
Speak of the devil. I glanced at the doorway to find Gray as he hovered, looking uncertain. He was in scrubs and had a paper coffee cup in his hand. I didn’t ask him to come closer like I’d done the previous times he’d visited. I was tired. If I’d known he was coming by, I probably would’ve just pretended to be asleep to avoid it all.
Whatever look I had on my face made him flinch. He steeled his jaw as if he’d made a decision and came in. He sat in my visitor’s chair at the foot of the bed. I didn’t want him there. I didn’t want him to leave, either.
He pulled an orange pack out of his pocket and handed it to me. Reese’s. Bingo! Guess he’d gotten the notice about the price of admission. I sent him a half-smile as I opened the pack. When I offered him one of the cups, he shook his head. I shrugged and stuffed one in my mouth.
“’S good,” I mumbled around a mouthful of peanut butter and chocolate.
He grinned. “You think it’s your new favorite?’
“No idea. I think I’ll have to try at least six more to decide.”
He smiled faintly. “Did you see Dr. Michaels today?”
I nodded. “He likes the way my injury is healing.”
His fingers flexed like he wanted to check himself. Now that I thought about it, I suppose it was rather strange that he hadn’t. My throat got unexpectedly tight. If I’d so much as needed a band-aid, he wanted to be the one to do it. A memory assailed me so suddenly that I almost dropped the second Reese’s cup. Gray and I were in a kitchen, arguing good-naturedly as I held my finger away from him and he tried to capture it. Carrots were on a cutting board alongside a discarded knife.
Let me do it, he said, trying to be commanding. It was difficult for him because he was just so damned sweet. The only time he truly got growly and bossy was when I had my clothes off.
My eyes sparkled as I evaded him again. It’s just a nick.
I’m a doctor, baby. Your nicks are my specialty.
“Chris.”
Gray’s soft voice brought me back to the present, where I was squeezing a peanut butter cup to death in my hand. I looked down at the mess dumbly as he got up and went to the bathroom. He came back with a wet paper towel and gently took the candy from me and tossed it in the trash. I couldn’t look at him as he cleaned my hand. When he finished, he dropped the paper towel in the trash bin, too.
He lingered near the end of the bed. “I should go.”
“Please… tell me,” I said haltingly. “Tell me what I did.”
I don’t know which of us was more surprised. I’d told myself I wouldn’t say anything, but that was before I was assailed with those memories. I needed to know why the center of my world only seemed to want to orbit along my edges.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
Stalling. You’re fucking stalling, baby. “You’re not being yourself. I know that much.” I swallowed. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry, and I’ll make it up to you.”
“Chris,” he said slowly.
“Just give me a chance to fix it,” I said fiercely, staring down at my hands. “Gray, you’re all I’ve got.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he finally said.
I reached out for him, but he was so very far away. He didn’t come closer, and my gaze turned beseeching. I felt desperate. I didn’t remember much about myself, but I knew I wasn’t a man who begged. But I’d do it. I’d do anything to get that remote look off Gray’s face.
“Please,” I said again.
He cursed. Stabbing his fingers through his hair. He tugged, so hard that it looked like he was hurting himself. And when his hands dropped, it looked like he’d made a decision. He stalked across the room. This time, he didn’t look mad at me. He looked mad at himself.
As soon as he was close enough, I fisted his scrub top in my hands and brought him even closer. He looked like he wanted to resist and devour me in equal measure. I exerted a little more pressure on his shirt, and he lowered some more. Those whiskey brown eyes got heavy-lidded, almost like they wanted to close but he didn’t want to break the intense connection of our gaze.