Page 67

She giggled. “You lo-ve me, you want to marry me,” she singsonged.

I laughed. Telling her hadn’t been as hard as I feared. She was never going to remember, but maybe it was for the best. I didn’t want her to feel beholden to me. Telling her was more about what I needed, than it was about whatsheneeded. She needed me steady.

“You’re so pre-tty,” she singsonged. “I’m fixed now. You know what that means,” she said with a suggestive wiggle of her brows.

“Yes, my beautiful wife. It means I get to take you home to rest and heal. You’re not ready for any.” I paused to wiggle my own brows. “Yet.”

She pouted. “Spoilsport. I can wiggle my brows all I want. You can’t stop me.”

“You’re right. But I don’t have to participate. Sober up, and we’ll go home in a few hours. Maybe take a nap.”

She scoffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t need to sleep. I’m totally sober.”

“Sure, you are, angel. I’ll ask your nurse for your clothes, and as soon as they say so, we’ll go home.”

She smiled. “I like our home. Martha Stewart for the win!”

Good. At least I was doing something right. I was tempted to ask how she felt about me. So. Tempted. But she was wasted; it wouldn’t be fair to ask her now.

I smiled. “I’ll check with the nurse about taking you home then. Try to get some rest.”

I was a chickenshit, afraid of what she’d say if I stayed. If she admitted to loving her cardiologist instead of me, I’d lose it. Even if she didn’t really mean it. I stepped outside and found the nurse’s station. “When will it be okay for me to take my wife home?”

The nurse who’d shown me from the waiting room looked up from her notes. “Mr. Nemitz, she can go home in a couple of hours if she has no nausea and can dress herself. I’ll show you to her clothes and we can go over her release instructions.”

The nurse was thorough with her directions, and by the time I returned to Melena she was fast asleep. I sat next to her bed for the next few hours, watching the rise and fall of her chest, her soft hand in mine. More time. I needed more time with her. A year would never be enough.

I startled from my reverie beside her when Melena called my name. “Jimmy? There you are. I’m ready to go home. How do I get out of here?”

My face softened as I focused on her in the hospital bed. Like I’d be anywhere else when she needed me. “I’ve got your things. I’ll go let the nurse know you’re awake and step outside so you can get dressed. If they okay it and you feel up to it, we’ll get you sprung from this joint.”

“Deal.” She smiled.

A few minutes and a stop at the pharmacy later, Melena stepped out of the wheelchair at the valet stand and I helped her into my Honda. When she was settled, I drove us home.

Melena stepped tenderly as I escorted her up the steps. “You okay?”

She nodded. “Just sore at the incision point. I should be fine once I’m on the couch.”

“One couch, coming up.”

I got her settled and watched her carefully, but her color was good.

“Can I have the blanket? I’m pretty tired. I’m going to take a nap.”

I grabbed a throw from the back of the couch and spread it over her. She’d dressed for comfort at the hospital, and I was glad she wasn’t in anything restrictive now.

“Get some rest, and I’ll heat up dinner when you’re ready. Chase and Tamra brought us a casserole.”

“That’s kind of them. I hope you thanked them for me.” Her gaze met mine, eyes soft. “You’ve taken such good care of me. Thank you.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” I promised.

I settled on the couch, her socked feet in my lap and watched as her eyelids drifted close. Then I let my own head tilt back until it hit the back of the couch and blew out a sigh. My heart couldn’t take more days like today. I scrubbed a hand over the stubble on my head before glancing back at Melena. She appeared peaceful. Would she still rest easy if she knew how I felt? Part of me was convinced she’d be looking for the exit. She might not need me anymore, but would she want me? If she was better medically, I couldn’t hold her to our agreement. Technically, I had my house; we’d both fulfilled our parts of the bargain. She valued her independence. If I told her I loved her, would she think I was trying to take that away from her or see it as pressure to stay married? I wanted her love, not her pity.