Liar Liar

I can’t speak for the knot in my throat and the fear in my belly. I manage to nod because, yes, I’d like to see him right now more than I ever have.

* * *

His skin is the colour of wax paper as I stand at the doorway. The lights in the room are low, and his eyes are closed, his head resting against a pillow, the head of the bed almost upright.

‘He looks awful,’ I whisper as I make a path to his bed, almost surprised to find his hand is warm to the touch. My gaze slips over my shoulder to where Rhett stands like a guard at the door. Where were you when he fell into the water? I quash the thought immediately.

‘I think we’d all look pretty shit after what he’s been through.’ Rhett answers in his normal register. In other words, loud.

‘Shush. Can’t you see he’s sleeping?’

‘He won’t be sleeping for long.’ His expression twists. ‘Not in here, at least.’

‘It doesn’t mean you have to talk like a foghorn,’ I retort . . . like a foghorn.

‘Ah, there she is.’

At the sound of Remy’s voice, I pivot.

‘Hey, there.’ Tears prickle against my lids, but I refuse to let them fall. ‘You know, we really ought to stop meeting in places like this.’ I tighten my hand on his as though crushing his fingers might make him understand my fear. My love. ‘Like, really.’

‘You mean in hospital.’ He winces as he turns his head my way. His eyes are rimmed red and swollen, a spectacular bruise forming on the left side of his face.

‘Yes.’ I choke back the threatening deluge of tears. ‘Let’s meet somewhere else next time you want me to hold your hand.’

‘Like dinner?’ His mouth kicks up in the corner in an attempt at a smile.

‘Dinner is better. Only don’t turn up looking like this. Because you really look like shit.’ I choke a little on the words.

‘Are you saying you wouldn’t have taken me home in March if I looked this terrible?’

I throw my arms around him as best as I can and smother my tears against his hospital gown as I shake my head. ‘I would’ve been frightened of breaking you.’ His chest vibrates under my ear as he laughs, the sound turning to a groan just as quick. ‘Get me some clothes, and I’ll take you home and show you exactly how unbreakable you make me feel.’

‘Jesus,’ comes a grunt from behind me. ‘I was gonna tell you to get a room, but you’ve already got one. I’ll be outside. Give me a shout when you’ve stopped with the dirty talking.’ With that, the door opens and closes in very quick succession without either of us looking once Rhett’s way.

I straighten and dash the backs of my hands across my cheeks. ‘If you had died, I would have been very, very angry. And you know what else?’ I take his hand in both of mine, pressing my face to his until his features become indistinct. I can’t believe I almost lost him. He would’ve died without knowing the strength of my love. ‘I would’ve been very, very sad because I love you too much to let you go, you stupid ass.’

If there are better ways to express it, I can’t find the words. But it doesn’t matter, not as his smile becomes the flame of a lit wax candle. Mainly because wax is still the colour of his skin.

‘Your hold was fortifying. I feel like a battery recharged. Where are my clothes? We need to leave.’

‘I don’t think so.’ More tears, this time through smiles.

‘I’m alive and the woman I love loves me. If that’s not cause for celebration, I don’t know what is.’

‘The only bed you’ll be seeing me in is this one. As for battery, you look like you’ve experienced the wrong end of assault and battery.’

He has no time to complain as the door to his room opens, and two nurses file in.

‘I’m just going to step outside to speak to Rhett.’ I press a kiss to his forehead as he raises my hand to his lips.

‘Tell him to go home,’ he murmurs, exchanging my kiss for his. ‘I’ll speak to him in the morning.’

‘It is the morning,’ I answer, pulling away. But he doesn’t let go of my hand. ‘Okay, I’ll tell him, but I don’t know why you think he’ll listen to me.’

‘Remy says to tell you to go home,’ I say to Rhett as I close the door to room behind me. ‘He says he’ll see you in the morning. He also said thank you.’

‘That’s it. The bastard’s dying, then?’ From his position leaning against the opposite wall, Everett grins. The expression is absolutely disreputable thanks to the dark stubble on his chin. ‘Because if he said thank you, I’m fucked.’