Page 24 of Wrecked
He drops his hand again, then leans his head back. “Um, yeah. Pretty dizzy.”
“Okay, is there anything else? Do you have a headache? Do you feel nauseous?”
“Don't think so.”
I reach for his pulse to check his blood pressure, and while counting the beats, I stare ahead, noticing a bottle of brown liquor on the coffee table that definitely wasn't there the last time I was here. My eyebrows draw together.
“Did you have alcohol tonight?” After shifting again, he closes his eyes but doesn't answer. “Cam, alcohol and concussions do not mix. No wonder you're feeling dizzy, especially if you've taken something for the pain.”
Jumping to my feet, I walk into his kitchen to fill a tall glass of water. A spark of familiarity hits me as I do. It was just a few days ago that I was doing the exact same thing.
“Did you have any painkillers tonight?” I ask, handing him the water when I return and assessing what I can of him.
“Just the one of each, like you gave me.”
Nodding, I start unwrapping his bandage to take a peek at his head since I'm here anyway. “And how much did you drink?”
“One drink. Feels like I had six, though. I just wanted to be able to get to sleep.”
Sighing, I relax my shoulders just the slightest. “I get that, I do. But you shouldn't be drinking right nowandmixing it with pain pills. That's why it feels like you've had more. You're lucky I don't think you need to go to the hospital. Not that I think you'd go anyway.” The slight tilt of his lips tells me that I'm right. “But you should drink a lot of water, okay? Can you stand up?” I take hold of his arms to help him, but he brushes me off, placing the glass of water on the ground.
“I'm fine.” Reaching up to the couch behind him, he manages to drag himself up to his feet and then leans against the couch for support, throwing me a triumphant smirk. “See.”
I roll my eyes. “Well, you may be fine, but I don't want you to be alone. Do you have family or anyone you can call to come and stay the night, just to be safe?”
It suddenly occurs to me that he reached out tomefor help and not anyone else. If he did have someone else, wouldn't he have called or texted them instead? No one came to the hospital for him either, so he could very well be alone, just like me.
“I'm already feeling a bit better now,” he replies instead of answering my question.
“That may be so, but I don't like the idea of you being alone tonight.” I pick up the water and place it in his hand. “Finish that, and I'll get you some more.”
He gulps it down, and I return with another full glass right away, leaving drops of water on the ground along the way in my hast. All the tiredness I felt earlier has vanished, replaced with the need to care for someone who needs me.
A natural caregiver. That's what Graham has said of me, and that nursing was the perfect fit. I can't say for sure whether that's the reason I'm here right now or whether it's because it's Cam specifically. Either way, I'm glad that it was me who he reached out to.
“Thanks for coming,” he says quietly after swallowing down a few more mouthfuls. “I didn't mean to wake you. I wasn't really thinking.”
“I was awake anyway. I had just gotten home from a shift.”
There's little resistance from him when I wrap my fingers around his muscular bicep and tug, trying to get him to move in the direction of his bed so I can get him settled.
He plonks himself down unceremoniously at the end of the bed. “You must be tired then, but you still came. Why are you always so nice to me?”
All of this feels pretty normal to me, so I don't exactly consider it as beingnice.
“Should I not be?” He shrugs. “Do you have a lot ofnot-nicepeople in your life or something?”
The question isn't exactly a serious one, and I said it with a hint of humor, but I still find myself waiting quietly for his answer.
Laying back on his bed, he doesn't give me one. Instead, he closes his eyes as if he's going to fall asleep.
“Oh, no you don't. Move up onto your pillows. You're too heavy for me to lift.”
Obediently he slides himself up the bed until his head rests on top of some pillows. He then pulls the blanket over himself, ensuring there won't be any cuddling incidents this time. Not that I told him about that.
Just as I go to turn away, he shifts a little and says, “Stay?”
I stand watching him for a second like I did the last time, wondering whether he really means it or not. It appears as if he's already asleep again. Either way, I decide to stay a little bit longer to make sure he's okay. I switch off his lamp, which was the only light illuminating the room, and then walk to the couch, using the flashlight on my phone to see. This time I set an early alarm. If I fall asleep, I can still be gone before he wakes up.
