Page 28 of Unforgettable
He didn’t casually move closer like he always did and stood closely at her bedside. Instead, he remained a few steps back, creating a distance between them. It was deliberate and necessary.
She couldn’t help noticing right away and it made her feel empty.
“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly.
His gaze met hers. It was steady and controlled, not natural, not comfortable, not making herfeel like he wanted to be there with her.
He shirked his shoulders nonchalantly.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
It wasn’t his truth. Not entirely anyway.
“You’re different,” she said.
Another pause.
Then—
“I won’t be coming by as often,” he spurted.
There it was. Out in the open. Simple and clinical and decisive.
The finality of his outburst, and that’s what it was, tightened the hell out of her chest before she could stop it.
“Oh.”
Her body jerked with the surprise his delivery offered. One word. That’s all it took and it carried more than she intended, like a slap in the face.
Brew’s jaw shifted slightly.
“This is the next phase of your recovery,” he continued. “You’re stable. Your progress is where it needs to be.”
She nodded slowly.
Of course. That made sense. It was what she wanted.
Wasn’t it?
“So… what happens now?” she asked.
He stepped forward then—but not too close. It was too measured. Too noticeable.
“Your sutures will be removed before discharge. I’ll be ordering outpatient therapy—specialized hand rehabilitation. It’s going to be intensive.”
Her gaze dropped briefly to her hand. It was unwrapped now. Still swollen, bruised, the sutures raw, the incision ugly.
Then back to him.
“And my chances?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Honesty mattered.
“You have a strong chance at functional recovery,” he said carefully. “But it will depend on your commitment to therapy.”
Her lips pressed together slightly.
