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He took a few steps toward the door. “That’s neither a good idea nor a possibility.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m needed elsewhere.”

“You haven’t been in town in a while, but you came back. Why?”

“It was a mistake.”

“So, you regret saving me?”

“No! I…” he pursed his lips, torn between giving more details and staying silent. “I know that being near you is a bad idea.”

She thought about that for a moment.

When the man walked toward the door, Astrid spoke up. “Please don’t leave me.”

“Astrid, I can’t stay here with you.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m starting to get attached, and that is decidedly a bad thing for you.”

“I don’t care. I may not remember you, but I feel comfortable around you, and that’s not something I’ve experienced with anyone besides my dad since Evan died.” She rubbed her lips together as she collected her thoughts. “That isn’t normal for me. And I don’t want to lose that while I’m vulnerable.”

He withdrew his hand from the doorknob. “Ok, I’ll stay with you.” Astrid smiled, her body relaxing a little on the bed. “But we can’t talk, and you can’t ask me any more questions. We’ll just—"

Astrid’s eyes widened, and she sat up. “I know why I wanted to talk to Elliott.” He fell silent. “I want to break the curse.”

“Oh, no,” he said, then placed his back against the door and slid down to the floor.

“What’s wrong?”

He stared at the floor. “That was the last thing your brother said to me.”

Chapter 10

Getting Comfortable Together

The silence stretched out as she stared at him, and he stared at nothing. Bunching the blanket up in her fist, Astrid asked, “What did you say?”

“I said that that was the last thing your brother said to me.”

“No,” she said and shook her head. “I got that. I mean, how did you respond to him?”

He just shook his head.

Astrid swung her legs over the bed, which seemed to distract him from what he was thinking.

“Please, stay in bed. Your body hasn’t fully recovered. Don’t push it right now.”

Even before he said it, she knew he was right. Her heart was beating a little too quickly, and the room was spinning a bit. She placed one hand on her chest and the other hand on the bed to steady herself. The man didn’t move to help her.

“How long will it take?” she asked, looking over at him.

“How long did it take when you got hurt as a child? Because that’s probably one of the best indicators.”

“Oh, weeks, I think, actually.” She tilted her head to the side as she thought about it. “I think it was about six weeks. I was a child. Time did not move the same back then.”