“I was waiting for you.”
“What?”
“Why didn’t you show up?”
“What does… I don’t…” He walks closer to me and this time I hear a creak that makes me jump. “Oh my God. Stop. What are you doing? Don’t move. This fucking hospital is falling apart, okay? Just don’t move.”
Of course, he doesn’t listen.
Of course, he wants to kill me. This is what it is.
He’s here to kill me. He’s a murderer. I wouldn’t put it past him because he is already stealing my breath away. He is already a thief. There’s a high likelihood that he’s a cold-hearted killer, too.
He keeps walking closer until I feel the heat radiating out of his body.
God, he’s hot. In temperature and in other ways. But I’m not thinking about the other ways right now.
I won’t.
“Do you think this is a game?” he snaps.
“What?”
I squint at him, trying to discern his expression. There’s no moonlight tonight; the rain is covering every inch of the ground and the sky. And the hallway light is dim, not to mention, this reckless man in my room is blocking it with his giant shoulders. So I can’t really see anything, other than his shining dark eyes and the shadowed lines of his face.
“Answer me, Willow,” he commands. “Do you think this is a game? Do you think your health is a game?”
“Of course not.”
“Then why the fuck didn’t you show up for the meeting?”
Is he really asking me that? After he pulled a ‘temporary insanity’ clause on me?
“Because I didn’t wanna see you,” I snap back. “Can you go now?”
I swear I see a pulse on his jaw, as if he’s angry. Then he shakes his head, sighs sharply and asks, “Why were you crying?”
“What?”
“I saw you through the window.”
“You’ve been spying on me through the window?” I hiss, trying to keep it down, wiping the tears that I didn’t know I was shedding in the first place.
“Spying is a strong word. I was trying to check up on you.”
I raise my hand in a stop-right-there gesture, blowing at my bangs. “I don’t even wanna address the fact that this is a gross invasion of privacy. Because something much more drastic is at stake right now. Remember what happened yesterday back at your office? And before that? Beth saw us. There’re eyes everywhere.”
“Beth’s not here.”
“What?” I shake my head at his casual comment. “We have hourly checks, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“The nurse thinks I’m in the supply closet and the check isn’t for another fifty-six minutes.”
“You’ve been counting?”
He completely ignores me and instead says, “You didn’t answer my question. Why were you crying?”
I sigh, tired, but so charged up at the same time. I know I won’t be able to sleep tonight. Actually, I’m not even thinking that far out. I’m only thinking of now. Like there’s nothing beyond him and this moment.
“What does it matter to you?”
He leans closer then, and at last, I can see his features a little better. Like he’s come out of the shadows. His brow is furrowed and his hair’s sticking up on the sides making me think that he’s been plowing his fingers through it.
I’m almost shocked to see him this way, ruffled and bothered. Nothing bothers him, not from what I’ve seen. He’s a block of ice but not right now.
Tonight, he looks like a man who’s tired, exhausted, imperfect, and so fucking glorious.
“It matters to me because you’re my patient and you missed your meeting, and now you’re awake at night, crying.” His eyes glint, troubled. “Which is why I’m asking you again. Why were you crying, Willow? Why are you even awake? With Trazadone you should be fast asleep.”
I’m such a sucker that I can’t see him like this. I can’t see him upset. I should tell him I’m crying because of him. I can’t sleep because of him. Because he kissed me and then pled temporary insanity.
But as I said, I’m a sucker so I look away from him and tell him the other truth, “It’s not the meds, okay? I miss home.”
“What about home?”
“Hedwig.”
“You had a pet owl?”
There he goes again, stealing my breath. How fucking unfair is it that I’ve finally found a man who knows Harry Potter like I do, but he isn’t into me. “Goldfish. I set it free when I was twelve. Well, gave it back to the store and asked them to set it free. Right after The Funeral Incident…”
Okay, stop, Willow. Stop talking.
I thought I hated talking. But something about him makes me want to talk and spill and bare my soul.
I’m so stupid.
“Why?”
I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. I can’t believe he’s here.
How is this my life?
I glance at the little window on the door again before focusing on him. “Because I thought she was alone and she needed friends.”