Marriage For One

“I ran.”

She was quiet for a few seconds as I examined her skin.

“You ran?”

I gave her a long look that made her lips twitch which broke my concentration.

“It’s just a bunch of surface scrapes. It’ll be fine once I wash and clean them, Jack. I’m fine. Really. No need to worry.”

“I’m not worrying.”

I ran my thumb across her palm, dislodging a few small stones that were sticking to her skin. She was right—they weren’t so bad that I would consider taking her to the hospital, but I had considered it. There was more dirt on her jeans so I assumed there were more scrapes at unseen places.

I let go of her hands, my eyes scanning her body again.

I watched as she held her hands up to her chest, rubbed the center of one, and winced.

“How did you managed to fall?”

Shifting her feet, she looked up at me under her lashes. “I was feeling a little dizzy and I fricking tripped on something. I don’t even know what it was, I wasn’t paying attention and then my ankle turned and I fell hard on my knees and hands. Henry helped me up, and I was a little shaky so he made me call someone. I couldn’t think of anyone but you. It’s nothing, I just need a little help walking, that’s all.”

I couldn’t think of anyone but you.

That shut me up for a second or two as I stared at her.

“You’re fine?” I asked with my brows raised. I reached for her hands and gently held them between us. Her palms weren’t dripping with blood, but the scrapes weren’t nothing either. “This isn’t nothing. Who knows what your knees look like.”

“I’m sure they look fine. It does hurt a little when I bend them, but only because I landed pretty hard on them, not because they’re scraped.”

Kneeling down, I looked at the foot she was trying her best not to put weight on. I rolled up her jeans once and gently wrapped my hand around her ankle. Even this. Even an innocent touch like this was starting to affect me.

“Jack?” Rose whispered and snapped me back from my thoughts.

When I pressed on a spot that was slightly red, she jerked it back.

“Yes,” I said dryly as I stood up. “You’re completely fine. Can you walk?

“Yes.”

“Okay. Let’s see how you walk.” Slipping her bag off her shoulder, I turned left, but she turned right. I stopped. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To work, of course,” she replied with a small frown forming between her brows.

“I don’t think so.”

“Excuse me?”

“Rose, I need to take a look at what else is hurt. We’re going home.”

“I don’t think so. I’m already late so if you’re not gonna help, I’m completely fine walking on my own.”

She turned, getting ready to walk away.

“Because that turned out so well for you the last time, right?” I asked, stopping her in her tracks before she could take a step.

Her eyes were narrowed when she faced me again. “Yes, actually, it’s worked out just fine these last few weeks. So, I’m thinking it’s gonna be just fine now too.”

I gritted my teeth and kept my mouth shut. She didn’t give me a chance to say anything anyway before she turned around to leave again. Her first step looked normal, but the second didn’t look smooth enough. She was favoring her left leg. What was I gonna do with her? Without even realizing it, she had just crumpled another wall I’d tried my best to put up.

Still just a few steps separating us, I called out after her. “Your bag.”

She stopped and looked at me over her shoulder, her features tight. “What?”

Staying silent, I raised my eyebrow and showed her the bag in my hand. She limped back the few steps she had taken and held her hand up, eyes boring into mine.

She was something else.

I studied her face, thinking maybe I could intimidate her, but she wasn’t giving an inch. I’d gotten to know her pretty well, and I knew she wouldn’t give in, no matter what I said or did. Shaking my head, I threw her bag on my left shoulder and tucked her arm around my right.

She stiffened next to me and tried to pull away. I covered the back of her hand with my right hand to keep her still.

“I’m not going back to your apartment, Jack,” she said through gritted teeth as a group of runners and their two dogs forced us to move to the edge of the road.

“It’s not my apartment anymore, is it?” I asked distractedly. “It’s supposed to be ours. Get used to it so you don’t let something like that slip around your cousins or other people.”

“Are you taking me to work or—”

“We’re going to your precious coffee shop, goddammit,” I burst out, and then I tried my best to gentle my voice. “You called me for help and I’m helping. Stop arguing with me and try to walk instead.”