Page 52 of At First Smile

“I’m fine, baby.” She offers a sweet smile. “Which is why I don’t need a wheelchair.”

“Hospital policy.” The nurse chuckles.

At this point, I’ve had enough of hospital policy. “Let’s go home.”

After we get Pen’s antibiotics at the pharmacy, we head home.

Gillian pulls into the drive and JoJo parks behind him.

Opening the door, I fight the urge to just scoop Pen into my arms and carry her inside.

When we’d gone to the pharmacy she croaked, “I can’t use my cane.

” As we got out of the vehicle, the quiver of her lips forces the air from my lungs with a whoosh.

Those honeyed eyes are glossy with unshed tears.

“We’ll do human guide.” I press a tender kiss to her temple.

I help her navigate her way to the front door. GB trots up to us. His butt shakes wildly, and his tongue lolls out of his mouth.

“Down, boy,” I say firmly, snapping twice for him to sit.

He lowers to his haunches. GB’s not known for his obedience, but his head tilt towards Pen telegraphs his concern.

Letting go of my bicep, Pen shuffles to the couch and sits. Within seconds, GB runs to her.

“GB! No!” I snap my fingers.

He lays his head in her lap, and she folds over him for a cuddle. “Hi, handsome. I missed you.”

He licks her face, and a sweet laugh falls out of her.

“If GB was with you, he’d have given that random stray dog the business,” JoJo teases, entering the house. Gillian follows her through the door.

“I’m glad he wasn’t. I wouldn’t want him hurt.” Pen scratches his brow with her uninjured hand.

Every time I think there’s no more room inside me for how much I love this woman, she does something like this and greater love seeps into lesser-known, unfilled crevices. She worries about everyone else.

“You look exhausted.” JoJo sighs. “Why don’t I help you change into something comfy while Rowan makes some food? Don’t want to take your antibiotics on an empty stomach,” JoJo says.

With a kiss on GB’s head, Pen stands. “Thanks, but I don’t need help.” Her tone is firm, but not unkind.

“Alright.”

A few minutes after Pen goes upstairs, JoJo heads out saying she’ll check in tomorrow. Gillian helps me in the kitchen – and by helps me, I mean he takes over.

“She’s taking a while up there.” He places a toasted cheese sandwich on a plate.

My thoughts exactly. “Let me check on her.”

Muffled sniffles drift through the closed bedroom door as I approach. I stop and close my eyes. God, I hate that sound. All I want is to pull her into my arms and hold her tight.

I step inside the room. “Hey, luv.” Her head snaps up as I announce my presence.

Pen sits in her bra and panties on the edge of the king-size bed.

“I can’t get my bra off,” she says, her voice cracking.

Coming up behind her, I unclasp the bra. As it slides off her, I press a tender kiss between her shoulder blades. “I got you.”

“You’re good at that.”

“Unclasping your bra?”

A soft laugh whooshes from her. “Getting me.”

Sitting beside her, I fold her into my arms and let myself do what I’ve wanted to do since she’d called, just hold her. She slumps against me, and our tension seems to melt away.

“I promise I’m ok. This is only temporary.” She holds up her hand.

I brush wayward tendrils of hair away from her face. “I know it’s temporary, but I’m not.”

Our gazes lock and my hands coast along her silky skin. All I want to do is pull her into my arms and never let go. To protect her from anything that dares to hurt her. But I can’t. No matter how much the caveman inside me wants to, I can’t protect her.

It’s a truth I’ve ignored since the moment the plane nosedived.

Despite her being secure in my arms, I couldn’t protect her if the plane crashed.

I couldn’t protect her from Alex. I couldn’t protect her from this dog or the next one, the literal or metaphorical.

All I can do is hold her and take care of her in the aftermath.

For the first time in my life, I know I am powerless.

“I should probably put some clothes on,” she says.

Running my fingers along her spine, I smirk. “I’m not complaining.”

“Perv.” A smile brightens her face and further unwinds the tension inside me.

Kissing the center of her forehead, I rise and walk to the dresser. I pull out a pair of sleep shorts and one of my T-shirts, which is her current loungewear go-to.

“Thanks,” she says, taking the shorts and pulling them on with her uninjured hand. With a bit of a wiggle, she tugs the T-shirt over her head. A hiss falls out of her as she pushes her injured hand through the sleeve.

“Gillian made a toasted cheese.” The sweet aroma of chocolate chip cookies wafts into the room. “He also put in some break and bake cookies. We both thought you deserved a special treat.”

“It’s been a day.” Grabbing a hair tie from the dresser she attempts to brush her hair, the injured hand not allowing her to gather it up. “Seriously!” she winces and tosses the hair tie onto the bed.

I scoop it up. “May I?”

Eyes closed, she nods.

Coming behind her, I comb up the long strands with my fingers. “Ponytail or messy bun?”

“Either.” She shrugs. “I can’t take off my bra. I can’t do my hair. I can’t even use my cane.”

“Baby, it’s only temporary.”

“How am I going to go to work tomorrow if I can’t use my cane?”

Enveloping her in my arms, I tuck her against my chest. “Maybe take the rest of the week off. You have plenty of leave and?—”

“Great,” she scoffs. “Just as I get offered the promotion, I’m out because?—”

“They offered you the job today?” I try to keep my tone curious and not accusatory, but the question still whispers inside me. Why didn’t she tell me?

Yes, she was attacked by a dog. A lot has occurred between her being offered the job and now, but Pen has texted me throughout the day. Practice was over at four, an hour before she’d left the hospital, and she’d not called.

“Yeah… I didn’t call you right after they offered me the job because I needed time to process. I don’t know how I feel about it,” she says with a hard breath.

“We could have processed it together.”

“Sorry,” she croaks. “You’re right.”

“It’s not about right or wrong, it’s about being a team.” I brush soothing strokes down her back.

She nods.

“What happened?”

“It’s not anything I haven’t dealt with before, but I overheard Nelson and the associate director talking about how impressive I am and that they forget that I’m blind because I’m so capable.”

My hold around her tightens. “I’m so sorry.”

“It just hurts to know what they really think…what their real expectations of me are.” A tremor shakes her words.

You cannot protect her from this. The thought is on repeat inside me. Still, I want to storm down to that hospital and… But I won’t. Instead, I press my lips to the top of her head and then rest my chin there, keeping her cocooned as she speaks.

“And now I have to take the rest of the week off because I can’t use my cane, knowing that this isn’t something they’d have to deal with from a”—she releases a sharp breath— “non-visually impaired person.”

“You were attacked by a dog, that’s all they need to know.”

Sniffling, she raises her bandaged hand. “It almost stings worse than this... to know how they really see me. It’s taken all the joy out of what should have been a big moment for me.”

“They’re the blind ones.”

“Yeah, but they have the right kind of blindness…the kind the world’s okay with.”

An ache reverberates through my chest. There’s no time machine that will let me go back to prevent this pain from finding her, but is there something I can do in the aftermath to take care of her in the way I want to, the way that ensures this hurt doesn’t find her again?

“I just want to forget it, forget today,” she croaks.

“Pen—”

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine. I’m just emotional.

I’ll be okay after I eat and rest.” She turns to face me, her red-rimmed eyes peer up and a small smile tugs her lips.

“Today has sucked, but I’m so grateful for you.

All I want to do is go eat cookies, cuddle on the couch with you and GB, and forget about this,” she murmurs, snuggling into me.

“Of course.” This is within my power. I’ll take it, even if it guts me that the only thing I can do about her tears is wipe them away.