Fix Me

Her offer was too good to pass up. “Okay.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m going to go to the cottage, change and grab a few things. Think about what you would like for dinner. Remember, I’m a bachelor and cooking for me is more about eating than actually enjoying the food.”

She softly laughed. “We’ll keep it simple. I could just order something.”

“Nah, I’ll cook. I’m sure there must be a box of mac and cheese or something in that massive kitchen isn’t there?”

She burst into laughter. “I seriously doubt that.”

“We’ll rummage through the cupboards together and see what we can find. It’ll be fun.”

She turned her face up to me with a look on her face that made me just want to kiss her until neither of us could breathe. “I’m looking forward to that.”

I left her in the room. She seemed to be in better spirits. The thought of spending the evening with her made me very happy. I hoped she would talk, open up a little more. If she could unburden herself it would help her feel better about the surgery. I wasn’t going to lie; I was thrilled with the idea of her getting the surgery. I wanted her to get her sight back. I wanted her to have the best chance of living the life she was craving. And mostly, I wanted us both out of this limbo.

I threw some things in a bag and took a quick shower to get rid of the sand. I told myself not to get too excited about the surgery. She could still change her mind. I had to remember it was her choice. I didn’t get to push what I wanted on her.

“I’m back,” I called out as I walked back towards the room.

She rose from her chair when I walked in. “I’m still here.”

She moved to step towards me. The small table between the two chairs was directly in her path. “Watch—” I called out at the same moment she hit the edge of the table, the teacup clattering to the floor and shattering.

“Ow!” she cried out.

I rushed towards her and saw the blood on her foot. “Oh shit,” I gasped. I dropped my duffel and scooped her up. “Are you okay?”

A tear slid down her cheek as I laid her on the bed. “I’m so tired of t

his,” she whispered. “I hate it. I can’t keep living like this.”

“Bree, it’s okay,” I assured her. I checked out her foot and decided the cut was definitely worthy of stitches. While I could do it, it was best she went to the hospital.

“It’s not okay,” she whined.

“I don’t want to freak you out, but we need to go to urgent care or the ER, your choice. You need a couple of stitches.”

She groaned. “Seriously?”

“Yes. It isn’t a big deal, just a couple stitches.”

She put a hand over her face. “This is such bullshit. What the hell did I do to deserve all this?”

I dropped a kiss on her forehead. “It’s a small cut. You’re going to be fine.”

I scooped her up and carried her back to my car. So much for our peaceful evening.

Chapter Fifteen

Bree

I WOKE UP, MY FOOT throbbing on the pillow it was propped up on. I tried to stretch my toes and flinched when the pain from the stitched cut shot up my leg. I was still so pissed at myself. It was the little things that still tripped me up—literally. I was used to walking without really paying attention. Now, everything I did required concentration. I had to move slow. I had to feel out where I was going. I had not done that and now I was bruised and stitched. Painful reminders.

Slowly, I got out of bed and hobbled towards the kitchen in search of coffee. With the K-cups, I could make my own coffee, which was just a little piece of independence. I had insisted Luke go home last night. He had slept in the chair the first night, too afraid to sleep in bed with me. He didn’t want to kick me in the middle of the night.

“Bacon?” I whispered. I slowly walked into the kitchen. “Hello?”