“I slapped him...I shouldn’t have done that.”
He pressed his fingers against my lips. “I’ve been sitting right over there since you’ve been in this room.” He pointed to the corner, but I still couldn’t move my neck. “I told them I wasn’t leaving unless you were coming with me.”
“You saw me tell the nurse not to call you?”
He nodded and narrowed his eyes at me.
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“I was in shock.” He looked hurt. “I couldn’t believe you’d said that—that you didn’t want to call me first.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You shouldn’t be...” He brushed his thumb against my cheek, whispering, “I deserved it...I’m so sorry, Claire. This should’ve never happened...”
We stared into each other’s eyes, not saying anything further. Then I remembered something he’d said earlier.
“How did your security team know that I’d fallen down the steps that soon?” I asked. “You had them watching me?”
“Not watching you. Protecting you.” He held my hand. “Apparently they were on a coffee break when Ryan came to see you...”
“Are they always watching me?”
He didn’t answer. He simply ran his fingers against the sling on my left arm and shook his head. “I’m sorry they weren’t able to prevent this...They should’ve never let Ryan get that close to you...”
“You fired them?”
“On the spot.” He kissed my forehead. “We’ll talk about everything later. Just rest.”
“Could you ask the doctors how much longer I’m going to be here? The numbness is starting to wear off. ”
“A few more days.” He looked saddened. “But let’s not focus on that. I’d rather know why you didn’t show up for our meeting with the wedding planner on Wednesday.”
“I thought the wedding was off.”
“Why would you think that?”
“I got a call about you canceling our meeting with the marital attorney, and since you didn’t show up for the final tour of the venue the other day...”
“I canceled the marital attorney appointment because he wanted me to sign a pre-nup, not because I don’t want to marry you.” He shook his head. “And I did show up to the venue—on time. You must have been late because I waited for you for over an hour...” He smiled. “I made a promise to you, and whether I’m upset with you or not, you’re still the stubborn love of my life... Do you still want to marry me, Claire?”
“Yes...”
He bent down and kissed my cheek. “Would you like to push the wedding back?” He looked over my body. “Until you feel better?”
“No.”
He raised his eyebrow.
“I don’t want to wait any longer—four weeks is long enough.”
He smiled and kissed my forehead.
“You didn’t change anything in that last meeting with Miss Corwin did you?”
“I did actually.” He smirked. “Quite a few things.”
I was alert now. “A few things like what?”
“Like the way the room will be set up, the dance floor inscription, the lighting...”
“So, you pretty much changed everything?”
“I guess so.” He kissed my cheek. “I didn’t have much help that day.”
“Jonathan, you said I could choose everything. I had the perfect ideas for the reception, and for you to go and...I can’t believe you. You just have to control something don’t you?” I groaned and he walked over to turn the TV off.
“I wasn’t done watching that, and I’m not done talking to you about our wedding reception. Can you get her on the phone so she can explain what you changed and I can make sure it all matches?”
“No.” He hit the lights.
“Can you at least tell me the specifics then? It’s not that I don’t trust your taste but—” I felt his lips covering mine—softly, tenderly, as if he wanted to be as careful as possible.
“Go to sleep, Claire.”
Chapter 17
Claire
Two weeks later...
I slowly walked across the room, ignoring the faint pain in my right foot, pleading with my body to keep moving.
So close....so close...
I took five more steps and collapsed onto the sofa once I made it to the other side.
My specialist clapped and handed me a cup of water. “Very good, Miss Gracen!” She was beaming. “That was two hours of walking! You are going to be strolling down that aisle with ease! Has your fiancée been letting you do a little more on your own now when you’re at home?”
No...
I told her yes, but Jonathan hadn’t let me do much of anything. He’d taken an extended vacation from his company so he could tend to my every need. He even had a replica of our bedroom built downstairs so I could get to it—via the wheelchair I didn’t really need to use.
I’d tried to convince him that the pain wasn’t that bad and that I really didn’t need physical therapy, but he refused to listen and he refused to let me go to work. He had my staff come over during the day time and we all worked in various rooms. And whenever I had an appointment with a client, I hosted it outside by the pool.
As far as the recommended exercises I was supposed to do at home, he was always ready to help me complete them. Even when it took me an hour to walk across the room without wincing, or when I cried for half a day because I couldn’t do the shoulder routine right, he was patient and encouraging.
“How long do you honestly think it’ll be until I can run again? And can you please write a note telling Mr. Statham that I’m fully capable of getting around without that damn wheelchair? I’m not taking it home with me today...”
She smiled and pulled a pad out of her pocket. “Of course. You can probably jog in four months...Running?” She shook her head. “We’ll talk about that when I see you again. I’ll be right back with your progress chart.”
My cellphone rang and I held it up to my ear without looking at it. Jonathan always called right after my session was over.
“I need a few more minutes.” I said. “I’m waiting for my progress chart.”
“Claire...” It was Ryan.
I hung up.
My phone rang again and I answered it, thinking it was Jonathan.
“Please don’t hang up, Claire.” It was the asshole again. “I’m...I’m so sorry that I pushed you—I never meant to hurt you like that...Please believe me.”
“I don’t. And I really hope you’re out of town because there are lots of people looking for you right now.”
He sighed. “I just want to let you know that Amanda is recovering from her surgery very well.” He paused. “Phase two was a week ago and it was risky, but it actually worked.”
“Well, good for her and good for you. Try not to push her out of the window. Goodbye.” I hung up.
He called back but I didn’t answer. Then he called two more times before I finally put my phone on silent.
I was about to call Jonathan and tell him I’d be outside, but Ryan sent me a text: “One of your employees mentioned you being at St. Francis...She’s in the same place...Room 2323...I won’t be there so you won’t have to talk to me—or see me...Just tell her hello. That’s all I’m asking...”
I wasn’t sure what made me change my mind, but there I was in line for a visitation pass, considering coming face to face with the woman who’d drastically altered my life.
The bright lights and taupe walls were triggering memories of years past, years when Amanda would be bedridden for the entire summer, when I would bring her teddy bears and catch her up on all the gossip she’d missed from the first week of high school classes.
It always used to pain me to see her body connected to numerous tubes, but I’d never let my concern show on my face. I always told her that “This time is the last time. You’ll never be in this room again.” And after we graduated high school together I’d believed those words were true.