Page 61 of Don’t Look Back

“I’m stronger than you give me credit for.”

“Ugh,” I groaned. “I feel like shit.”

“I’m not surprised. You were exhausted, not to mention dehydrated and starving.” Charlie sat down on the bed next to me. “You took down three glasses of water and two bowls of soup before I got you to sleep. I tried my hand at a grilled cheese but that didn’t work out so well.”

“That’s why I smell burning toast. I thought I was having a stroke.” Charlie delivered a back-handed slap to my chest that I was too tired to duck out of. “How long have I been asleep?”

“About six hours.”

“Ryan—”

“Is awake and wants to see you the second you’re ready.”

The hornets came back, churning up nausea once more. I swallowed against it, preparing myself to stand.

“Easy, Genie,” Charlie said. “You can take your time.”

“I’ve had enough time. He woke up and I wasn’t there. I need to be there.”

By the time I’d brushed my teeth and washed up, Charlie waited by my bedroom door with my shoes in her hand.

After an agonizingly slow drive to the hospital, I was naturally met with Debbie standing in the lobby. Rolling my eyes, I charged past her—only to have manicured nails dig into my bicep. “Where are you going?” she hissed.

“None of your business,” I spat, wrenching my arm out of her grip—she didn’t care for that very much.

I wasn’t sure exactly what her rank was there, but I doubt she possessed the authority to monitor who came and who went.

Charlie and I continued through the lobby, only for her to cut us off before we could step into the elevator. “You’re not going anywhere⁠—”

“You listen to me.” Charlie didn’t even try to stop me that time. “I’ve had enough from you. My boyfriend is awake now, and nothing short of Armageddon is going to stop me from getting to him. Now move before I move you myself.”

I shoved past her into the elevator, and she disappeared from view as the doors slid shut.

Fighting dizziness, my feet carried me toward Ryan’s room like my body just knew where I needed to be. If my heart had been beating any harder, it would have burst right out of my chest. I stopped in the doorway, admiring Ryan’s sleeping form, turned to his side with his back to the door. Marisol noticed me first, brushing his hair out of his face. “Mijo,” she whispered.

That was enough for him to stir, and those pretty brown eyes peeled open. The moment he saw me, his mouth curled into that smile that never failed to turn me into a puddle. “Hey you.”

And that rough, sore-throat voice was the greatest sound I’d ever heard. “Hi.” I advanced into the room, holding a hand up to stop Ryan from moving. “I’ll come to you.”

That’s exactly what I did, crossing the room in a few long strides. Marisol stepped aside, giving me space to sit on the edge of the bed. I wanted more, wanted to pull him into my arms, but I was way too scared to hurt him. His head was still bandaged, and I could make out the line of more underneath his gown. But Ryan made the decision for me, tugging me closer by his arms around my neck. I wrapped an arm gently around his waist, resting my weight on the mattress.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I whispered.

“You won’t. Just hold me.”

Who was I to tell him no? Soft noises, footsteps, and the door clicked shut.

When Ryan made the decision to let go, I eased him back onto the mattress. “You’re a mess,” he teased, running a hand through my hair.

“I am not!”

“You’ve been crying.”

I held his hand in mine, relieved to feel it tighten around mine. “Can you blame me? You scared the shit out of me.”

Ryan shifted, wincing and grabbing at his stomach. Fabric and bandages hid the scar that he’d have for the rest of his life.

“I have something to tell you…” I started, but Ryan cut me off before I could go any further.