“I’m sorry,” she said stiffly. “I realize I have no right to lecture you about anything.”
Just as she’d had no right to expect to be called when he was injured, she added silently. No right to ask him to be careful. No right to know where he was when he wasn’t with her. What he was doing. Or who he was with.
This was exactly what he’d made it clear that he didn’t want from her—or any other woman. He had said he had too many people to answer to already. Too many expectations to live up to, too many commitments to fulfill.
He wasn’t interested in a wife. Not even a long-term relationship. And she had thought that was fine with her. Exactly what she wanted, too.
Or so she had believed.
Because she understood now how unfair she was being to criticize him when she was the one who seemed to be changing the rules, she sighed and shook her head.
“I’m sorry,” she said again—only this time she meant it. “I really don’t have a right to lecture you. You just scared me, that’s all. I was already stressed today, and when I heard you’d been in an accident, I guess I just freaked out a little.”
She watched as his face softened a bit and his taut shoulders relaxed. “And I’m sorry I snapped at you. I should be grateful that you were concerned about me. And I should have realized you would be.”
Still shaking her head, she took a step toward him. “Don’t apologize. I’m the one who’s been acting unreasonably. I suppose I do need to sit on the couch and relax for a little while, as you suggested earlier. Why don’t I serve us both some ice cream—I have your favorite, chocolate—and then we can crash in front of the TV. Unless you need to go?”
“Ice cream and TV sound good to me,” he assured her and then gave her a decent imitation of his usual lazy grin. “But let’s not use the word crash, okay?”
The sharp words they had both spoken weren’t forgotten, Cecilia mused, but she and Geoff could put them aside for the rest of the evening. After all, there wouldn’t be many more evenings to spend together before they returned to their separate lives.
He would probably be relieved to move on, especially after this. She didn’t think it would be quite so easy for her.
Which was all the more reason for her to try to enjoy the remaining time they had together.
Sitting on the couch at Geoff’s right side an hour later, Cecilia felt a bit of tension ease from her shoulders. They hadn’t said much since they had moved into the living room, but the silence had been companionable. Having eaten their ice cream, they sipped the herbal tea Geoff had brought her and watched a new documentary on the history channel. The program was interesting, informative, quietly entertaining—just the sort of calming activity they both needed.
As the program neared its end, she noticed that Geoff was beginning to squirm a little—surreptitiously rubbing his left arm and shoulder, stretching his leg out as if it were cramping.
She set her empty teacup on a side table. “Are you in pain?”
“No, I’m fine.”
She gave him a look that let him know he wasn’t fooling her for a minute.
Geoff made a face. “Okay, I’m a little sore,” he admitted. “Kind of stiffening up.”
She twisted on the couch to face him more fully. “Just how badly were you hurt? Really?”
“Nothing serious. Really. As I said, it’s just scrapes and bruises.”
She reached out to unfasten the top button of his shirt. “So you won’t mind if I check for myself?”
“Um—” He cleared his throat as another button popped out of its hole. “Just remember, it looks worse than it is.”
“I’m a nurse. I know how to assess an injury.” She slid the unbuttoned shirt carefully off his shoulders.
Had she not been a nurse, she might have gasped. Fortunately, her training helped her see with one long, searching glance that he had told the truth about the severity of his injuries.
Though the scrapes down his arm and his side were raw and angry looking and the bruises were already turning a rainbow of muddy colors, none of the wounds was serious. He was going to feel like hell for the next week or so—the soreness and stiffness would get worse before they got better—but he would suffer no long-lasting repercussions.
“You got lucky,” she said.
He released a breath he must have been holding while she examined him. “I know. Dad blew a gasket when he saw me, but Mari convinced him I would be okay despite appearances. He’s not a medical professional, of course, so it looked worse to him than it is.”
“Were you given a prescription for pain medication? Because you might need something later.”
“Mari tried to give me some pills to take, but I told her I didn’t need them. I don’t like to take prescription medications unless it is absolutely necessary. I can manage this with over-the-counter painkillers.”