Page 18 of Beauty Becomes You (Beauty 4)
She made her way down the small offshoot hallway and came in sight of a large, thick window with no bars. It overlooked the city, in all its glory—or lack thereof. She could recognize many of the old buildings downtown and even the stadium of her high school, which was larger and taller than the school’s building. The mostly flat skyline filled her with a sense of nostalgia for a simpler time and a smaller world. Now that she’d seen what lay beyond, she knew she’d never move back to this town. Still, she felt gratitude for the mostly happy childhood it had given her.
A few chairs were lined up against the wall, and unlike those in the main waiting area, these were empty. She passed a utility closet stacked with white sheets and what appeared to be hospital gowns before finding the restroom.
After, she washed her hands and studied herself in the small mirror. No surprises there; she looked exhausted. She felt exhausted but also pleased. Her mother was well, even though there was her recovery to oversee. Blake was with her, even though they still needed to talk privately. Things weren’t perfect. Even better, they were real.
As she stepped outside, she almost averted her gaze when she noticed someone else in the hallway. Then she paused.
“Blake?”
He turned at the sound of her voice. “What are you doing back here?’
He had been looking out the large window, his body drawn in lines of tension, leaning toward the window as if he could break free. His eyes were clouded with something dark and unsettled.
She gestured vaguely. “The restroom. Are you okay?”
“Of course.”
But he wasn’t. She took a step forward. “You know, with Doug. Nothing happened.”
He turned to look at her. “I know. I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I know I have to make that up to you.”
“No. It’s not like that. I just didn’t want you to doubt me…” The way she had doubted him once.
His smile was wry. “I was playing pool, if you were wondering.”
“I did wonder…but I wouldn’t have accused
you of anything. I trust you.”
It sounded so simple, but she felt her surety reverberate through her bones. He wouldn’t have cheated on her. He wouldn’t do that to her; he wouldn’t even do that to himself. Cheating, at all, would be beneath him.
“Do you want to go back to the waiting room?” she said, reaching for him.
“You go. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Okay,” she said, but she didn’t move. Couldn’t move. She had a memory of watching him stare out the window, of feeling his inner turmoil well in the air around him. Only this was worse. More acute.
She frowned. “You’re tired. I’m sorry. I’ve been inconsiderate. You should go back to the house.”
He shook his head. “No, I’m fine. I want to be here for you.”
Though he must be tired, she doubted that was the real problem. She stepped closer, noticing the light sheen of sweat on his forehead. The stubble on his jaw simply made him more handsome, but the shadows under his eyes gave him a vaguely haunted look.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered.
He waved dismissively. “It’s nothing. Just…hospitals. They have this effect on me. I’ll get over it in a minute.”
Her heart sank. He must have had horrible memories from hospitals. Once, very briefly, he’d explained some of the treatment he’d gone through after the explosion. The skin grafts and reconstruction. Weeks in an enemy torture chamber and then months under a doctor’s scalpel. God.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think.”
He cut her off fiercely. “It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry you even had to see me like this. That’s why I came out here. It’ll pass.”
“You shouldn’t have to go through it alone,” she said softly. She couldn’t take away his waking nightmares, but she could hold his hand.
Turning away, he muttered, “Just go.”
“I can’t do that.”
