Page 103 of Game Misconduct

The team granted me a few days off, but I needed to get out of that apartment before I went nuts.

“You’re not looking at his scans?”

I shake my head. “You can check the audit logs. I don’t want to see them. I’m seeing his status firsthand, and knowing the details will only make me more anxious.”

She sighs. “I’m sorry you’re in this position.”

“I’m not. I’d rather he not be injured, of course. I don’t want anyone to get injured. But if he’s going to have someone taking care of him, I’d rather it be me.”

“Helps that you know the neuroscience behind it.”

My forced chuckle is weak. “Not really. Because I know what it means when his symptoms last this long, and I know all the potential side effects.”

Annaliese grimaces. “There is that.”

“I’m just putting one foot in front of the other. Focusing on getting through the day.”

“Caregiver fatigue can be devastating,” she says. “Don’t forget to take care of yourself during all of this, too.”

“When I get home, I’m going to draw a bubble bath and read a book,” I promise.

Even if home in this case is Nick’s apartment. He has a full Jacuzzi tub with jets and a bath tray to hold my book and maybe a glass of wine.

And I don’t want to leave him. Call me a sap, call me a worrywart, but I like making sure he’s okay. Seeing with my own two eyes that he’s breathing, even if he’s still in pain.

We say goodbye and I drive to his apartment, parking in his second assigned space. It feels like half the team lives in this building, which makes it convenient to get together.

I take the elevator from the basement garage to the lobby, where Sinclair nods and steps into the metal cage. He jabs the button for the eighth floor and we ride in silence until we reach his floor.

He steps off, then turns back, his arm holding the doors open.

“He’s doing okay?” Concern creases his face.

“As well as he can be.”

He grunts. “Tell him we’re thinking of him, ’kay?”

My heart warms. “I will.”

“We’re giving him some space, but as soon as he’s ready for visitors, we’ll be up.”

“He’d like that.” I reach out and squeeze his arm. “Thanks, Adam.”

The defenseman grimaces. “Why you gotta first name me? Gross.”

I laugh. “I’ll tell him you’re thinking of him,” I promise.

He nods. “Thanks.”

Finally stepping away, he allows the doors to close, and I continue on my ascent to Nick’s floor. His apartment is all the way at the end of the hall in a corner unit. He has absolutely brilliant views of the city below.

I find Nick sitting on the couch, my throw blanket over his lap as he runs his hand through his hair, staring at the walls.

“Honey, I’m home,” I call out, pitching my voice low.

He turns to face me, a soft smile on his face. “I like the sound of that.”

I cross the room to him, ducking to kiss him softly. “How’s your head?”