Billionaires in Tokyo
Now that’s more fucking like it!
Chapter 10
IAN
I’ve been in and out of consciousness for about an hour now. The doctor told me to rest, but how the hell am I supposed to do that when my worries are in overdrive? For fuck’s sake, I’m in the hospital, and I’m not sure anyone knows.
Doesn’t help I have absolutely no recollection of how I got here and probably never will. Nobody except that one doctor spoke any English, so my earlier attempt to get more water was met with blank stares and meaningless apologies. Hell, I’ll even take watching Japanese baseball on TV, except I dropped my remote on the floor fifteen minutes ago and I’m too tired to reach down and pick it up. Whine, whine, whine.
Mostly, though, I’m lonely and in desperate need to see my woman.
Suppose that makes me sound like an asshole. My woman. I could say I don’t mean it in the caveman way, but hell, I kinda do. Kathryn is unequivocally mine until death do us part. Don’t need a valid marriage license for us to believe that. Hell, I’ve resigned myself to never marrying the love of my life, but when she’s not actually my wife, or even my fiancée in everything but personal truth, what am I supposed to call her? She’s been more than my girlfriend for over a year. She sometimes calls me her partner, but God, that sounds so trite. Partner makes it sound like business instead of love. I mean, why can’t we be both?
Besides, I was informed that she probably wouldn’t be able to see me because we’re not legally related. Sure would be nice to be married right about now, huh, Kathryn? Because even if we jump through a million hoops at home to get the same rights as married couples, there are still those other hundred countries we visit that would laugh at those supposed arrangements.
Of course, now I see you over here laughing at my predicament. Something you want to share with the class? Because I am absolutely not in the mood to deal with coy games. I’m not even sure my addled brain can process mind games right now. So either spit it out or stop looking at me like that. Not in the mood.
Only things I’m in the mood for are more sleep or my woman. Both are as elusive as my sanity right now.
A nurse walks in. I haven’t seen her before. She glances at my chart on her way to my bedside. Whether she expected to see me awake or not, she doesn’t let me know. The words out of her mouth, however, are in English. “You have a visitor.”
It’s probably my mom. Yay.
“Do you want to see her?”
Sure. Why the fuck not. Maybe I can revert to my mom’s baby boy and let her watch me while I try to sleep. Either way, she’ll pick up that remote for me, because the nurse isn’t going to. As soon as I nod my head in agreement, she’s off. I wait to hear my mother’s voice barreling into my hospital room.
Instead, the only woman I actually want to see rushes into my room and gives me the most horrified look I’ve ever seen on her fair Swedish face.
“Ian!” Kathryn’s taken my hand and slammed it against her cheek. Hot tears touch my skin before I register anything else about her presence. “Oh my God, I’ve been so fucking worried about you.”
The nurse asks her to calm down. I don’t care. Kathryn’s sudden presence is exactly what I needed to feel better. I wrap one arm around the head nestling against my chest. The other waves the nurse away. Don’t think she wants to watch a couple of sappy Americans fall over each other like this.
“I didn’t know what happened to you,” Kathryn sobs against my chest. “I couldn’t get a hold of you! You didn’t show up to anything. I thought something terrible happened to you. Or that you…”
She doesn’t say it, but I know what she’s thinking. That I left her. Something I would never, ever do. Even if it came down to us breaking up one day, I could never leave her cold, let alone in a foreign country! That’s not the kind of man I am. That’s not what our relationship means.
“I’m sorry.” I’m too tired to join her in her tears of relief. If I could, I would roll over and pull her into this bed with me. Hell, I’d get up, put on my real clothes, and take her far, far away from here. I’d get on my family’s plane and hold her until we touched down back home. Then I’d haul her to my condo and never let us leave my bedroom. I’m not even talking about sex. I’m talking about curling up next to her and refusing to let go.
She’s the only person in this world who truly matters. Knowing how upset she’s been over me all day breaks my heart and makes me feel more ill than the allergic reaction.
“I’m here,” I say. Words don’t come easy with my dry throat and fatigue. “I’m okay. I’m going to be okay. Only an allergic reaction to something I didn’t know I was allergic to.”