Page 61 of A Heart of Little Faith

“Then why are you here?”

He met her gaze and in it she saw love, despair and acceptance. “Because you are.”

She squeezed his hand. It was solid, yet he was vulnerable right now. For the first time, he’d put aside his own fears for her. If she had the energy, she would have leapt out of the bed and into his arms. “I’m going to be fine, you know. It’s okay to get some rest.”

“I can’t.” His brown eyes behind his glasses were empty and flat, and sudden comprehension dawned. Although he’d never told her about his accident, she remembered her conversation with Samantha.

“Too many memories?”

He stiffened, and Lily thought he’d head her off as he usually did. Instead, he nodded. “Yeah.” His voice cracked. Sunlight hit his dark blond hair and turn it a deep gold. It resembled a halo, but his face was haunted. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Her hand ached in his, but she was afraid to move it. Somehow, she knew she was his lifeline, and she let him hold on as she waited to see if he would continue.

“I remember being afraid.” He hesitated then took a ragged breath and continued. “Afraid of never walking again, of needing to be taken care of, of how my life would change. The fear forced itself into my mouth and wrapped around my tongue; it bored a hole into my head and bounced off my eardrums. It became a living, breathing cohabitant of my bed.”

He clenched his free hand into a fist. “I didn’t just have to learn to adjust to my physical limitations; I had to learn to beat back the fear.” He glared into the distance. “It took every ounce of energy I had, every bit of willpower to overcome that fear. I can’t let it return.”

When he finished speaking he released her and stared out of the window. The sudden freedom made her miss his firm grip. She reached out for him and he placed his dry palm to hers. She clasped his wrist. His pulse beat against hers and she stroked the back of his hand. He stared at her fingers and took a deep breath.

She patted the bed next to her. “Why don’t you lay with me?”

He tilted his head, once again focused on the present. “Why?”

“Because you’re exhausted. There’s plenty of space. You won’t hurt me, and maybe I can keep your fear at bay.” She knew about fear—of being alone, of responsibility, of forgetting the past even as she struggled to move on.

He didn’t believe her. She could see it in his eyes, how they narrowed and glinted amber. But somewhere deep inside, she saw a spark of hope, and she cradled it, protected it and refused to let it disappear. She met his gaze and hopefully let her love for him show.

“Please.”

“Lil, I’m not going to sleep here.”

“So you can just rest. But it’s got to be more comfortable than that chair of yours.”

She thought he’d refuse, but to her surprise, he relented. Maybe he was too tired to argue. Maybe he was relieved she was going to be okay. Whatever the reason, he nodded. The bed was much higher than his chair, and as he wobbled, she attempted to steady him. He gave a wry laugh.

“Talk about the blind leading the blind.”

She joined in, and he climbed somewhat clumsily onto the bed. She moved over to make room for him, and he lay next to her, leaving as much space between them as possible.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” As he started to move away from her, she glared, and he stopped.

She caressed the side of cheek as he wrapped his arm around her. His weight reassured her. She wouldn’t float away into some sick delirium. He anchored her, and now she wanted to do the same for him. “No, you’re not.”

“I’m not going to fall asleep,” he said, as he stifled a yawn. Exhaustion overtook him and weighted his limbs. His eyelids lowered and his mouth softened. Heat from his body enveloped her.

“It’s okay.” She continued the rhythmic motion on his cheek.

It felt good lying with him. He started to say something, but his eyes closed. He jerked them open and he balled the blanket in his fists.

“Shhh,” she said. She took his hand, squeezed it and brought it to rest on her chest. Her heart beat beneath his palm. His eyes closed again, and this time, he fell asleep.

When he woke, bright sunshine streamed in the windows. He sat up. Lily sat on a chair next to the bed, eating breakfast. She smiled.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” she chirped, after she finished her mouthful of toast. “Your glasses are on the table next to the bed.”

He reached for them, put them on, and stared at her. She smiled as she finished eating. Still haggard, his color was better and his stress lines had lessened. He’d slept through the night. Not even the nurses checking on her, or her getting up to eat breakfast, had awakened him. “Did I sleep?”

Lily smiled. “Snored, too.” Somehow, that little flaw made him more human.

Horror crossed his face. “Oh no. Did I keep you up?”