Page 86 of Play With Me
“Fair. Fair. You enjoy that sandwich now.” I flash her a charming smile and walk away, preparing myself to tell Carmela how I feel finally.
It’s dark when I enter, the only lights coming from the machines she’s still hooked up to. The fact that she’s already breathing on her own is a miracle. Thedoctors have all mentioned what a fighter she is, but no one has to tell me that.
It takes a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, but as they do, I realize her head is turned sideways on her pillow, and her eyes are closed. Her chest rises and falls with each shuddered breath as she sleeps.
Trying to keep the bag from crinkling loudly, I place it on the rolling table beside her bed. I want so badly to touch her—pull her hair off her face, kiss her forehead, run my thumb along the soft skin of her hand. But I don’t want to disturb her.
I count the beeps of her heart monitor, waiting at least thirty until I turn to leave.
As soon as my hand touches the door handle, she speaks suddenly, causing me to jolt in surprise as I turn to look at her.
“Stop,” she commands softly. She turns her head stiffly to the other side of the pillow. “Sit. Stay.”
Relief floods my veins. “You must feel okay if you’re already back to barking orders, baby girl.”
Cara attempts a weak smile, pointing to a watered-down pitcher of ice chips. “Be a good doggy and fetch me some water, please?” she says so sweetly that I can’t deny her request. Her voice is scratchy, and she winces when she talks, but she’s doing a good job of pretending to be okay for me.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, pouring her a glass of water.
“Eh, I’ve endured worse. I birthed Maya naturally, with no epidural. This is nothing,” she jokes as she adjusts her bed to be in more of a sitting position.
“That’s my girl,” I praise, handing her the water and kissing her forehead.
She sips the cold liquid, and a slight cough erupts from her throat. I take the cup back, setting it on the table before rolling it closer so she can grab it when she wants it. “I spent the day at the club trying to find anything I could?—”
“Can we not talk about that?” she interrupts with a wheeze.
Guilt courses through my chest as I sit in the chair beside the bed and grab her hand. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t be bothering you with this.”
“Anders?” She squeezes my hand.
My heart jumps into my throat at her vulnerable tone. “What is it, baby girl?”
“I love you,” she says. Her words are simple and to the point—no flowery prose declaring her unyielding affection.
It’s the most perfect confession I’ve ever heard.
Tears prick my eyes as the heavy weight of the actuality that I could have lost her pops like a balloon. “I love you, too, Carmela. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. I should have told you the moment I realized it.”
“Come here.” She scoots over, wincing as sheleaves just enough room on the bed for me to crawl on and lie on my side.
I kick off my shoes and shrug out of my sports jacket before settling in next to her, lacing my fingers through hers as I drape my other arm above her head. “It’s only four years until Maya graduates. Four years is nothing compared to the rest of our lives,” I tell her quietly. “We’ll figure it out as we go.”
She doesn’t reply, her breathing evening out as she drifts off to sleep. Every part of me relaxes against her, knowing she’s safe in my arms.
We can talk about everything else when she’s feeling better.
For now, I just want to hold her and watch her sleep—her rhythmic breathing a constant reminder that she’s here, and she’s alive, and I didn’t lose her.
Carmela
ONE MONTH LATER
“The paperwork is finished. Mick is officially out. Tripp is in. Everything gets split equally,” Jackson explains as he tosses a massive manila envelope on the top of the bar in the Grand Room.
Glittery tinsel goes flying everywhere. Désirer is decked out for the impending Christmas holiday, with silver and gold garland draped everywhere and shiny bulbs dangling at varying lengths from the ceiling.
It seems fitting to reopen with a bang—literally—since we recommence Saturday with a show.