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But in the back of his head, Nutsbe heard a chuckle and Murphy’s Law, man. Murphy’s Law.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Nutsbe
Olivia walked in wearing her jeans and a blue t-shirt, looking steady and focused.
Her gaze locked on him lying on the bed with his residual limbs extending past the end of his hospital gown. She scanned the room. “Where are your legs? Did they get damaged in the fight?”
“Over there.” He pointed toward the chair.
Olivia went over to pick one up and examine the design painted on the robotic’s casing. A flamingo in Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses with a beer and a bong were rendered in neon colors. “Festive.” She set it down. “Not what I would have imagined you’d choose.”
“Not what I chose – those are a research lab prototype. I’m waiting for my buddy Thorn to bring my chair. The doctors say things look fine, but I want to give my legs a break for a couple of days. Marvin—the engineer working on the robotics—will want to take those to his lab and check the data to see how his stabilizing invention did.”
“How did it do?” She came to the bed, slid her feet out of her clogs, and threw a leg onto the mattress, signaling that she planned to climb on beside him.
Nutsbe budged over to make space for her. “Hard to say. I had other things that had my attention.”
“So until they’re back,” she hitched her thumb toward the prostheses, “you’ll be in the chair?”
“I have another set at home. Sometimes, I take a day or two off and use the chair, fight or no fight.”
She reached up and combed his hair into place with her fingers. “Are you often in a fight?” She held his chin and pushed his face this way and that to see under the fluorescent light the damage he’d sustained. “This bruising needs a bag of peas.”
“The nurse is getting me an ice pack. Purposefully, I fight several times a week for training. But going hand to hand with a bad guy? That’s for my other team members.”
Her thumb painted over his mouth, and she frowned at the cut on his lips. “You’re always smiling,” she said.
“I’m always smiling at you,” he corrected.
They held each other’s gaze for a long moment. “Thank you,” Olivia said. There was a lot packed into those two words. He felt the importance of them moving into his body.
He wondered what she would have had him do other than what he did.
She was his to protect.
Anything that hurt her hurt him. No thanks necessary for self-preservation.
The bed was in an upright position, and she settled back, reaching for his hand, dusting her fingers over his bruised knuckles.
They were quiet. For a while, Nutsbe thought that Olivia might have fallen asleep. That wouldn’t be unusual as adrenaline left her system, and she felt safe.
But after a moment, she said, “Your smile—do you ever get down about life? I get down about life,” she whispered. “I get overwhelmed. Depressed. Sad.” She didn’t look at him and instead played with his fingers. “Today. This week. For too long now, to be honest.”
“Of course you do. And I do, just like everyone else.”
“You don’t seem like it,” she ventured, turning to lay a kiss on his chest before snuggling back down. “You’re so even-keel except for around women’s tears. I feel like I should present as sunnier. I mean, what have I got to be upset about? I have friends, a career I wanted, financial stability, and my health.” She shook her head. “I felt mildly guilty when I said that last one out loud.” She swiveled to look him in the eye, her forehead crinkled with a new thought. “And I shouldn’t, should I?” She gestured towards his legs. “You’re one of the healthiest people I’ve ever met.”
“Are all my days blinking golden joy at my circumstances? No. Some days are darned hard. Painful. Sad. On other days, I’m gutted by the sheer amazement that I’m alive. Most days, it’s a non-thing. I don’t think about it anymore than I do the color of my hair.” He took a moment, then added, “Olivia, you shouldn’t worry about saying things like that around me. The sunnier part, yeah, don’t do that.” He scooted over a bit more so he could turn and really look at Olivia. “Nothing I dislike more than toxic positivity. You know, at Iniquus,” he brushed his hand through her hair, “we’re all a bunch of recalibrated special ops guys. Destroyed? Hell no. But our bodies have been through it. We’ve seen things, been involved in things. We’re damaged from that life—physically—ears, backs, knees, repeated traumatic brain injuries. And mentally, that took a toll. Iniquus makes sure we have ongoing health support. There’s a big emphasis on making sure everyone is properly cared for. Speaking of caring, did your friend's husband get Henrietta and take her to the vet?
“I got a text. Hen’s fine,” Olivia said. “She’s going to spend the rest of the week at Jaylen’s property, playing with their dog and goat. Go back to what you were saying about toxic positivity, please. I need to hear this.”
“Everyone seems to be looking for their happily ever after. And I just think that’s not a thing.”
“No?”
“Nope. You wake up and live that day. You’re happy. You’re sad. Angry. Frustrated. Tired. You’re headachy or depressed. Would you really want a happily ever after? It would be a one-dimensional life. Where’s the ecstasy of more than happy? Where’s the surprise and the sense of relief? You have to go through a storm in order to feel awe in the brilliance of a silver lining.”