Page 41 of Daring Wicked Love (Wicked Dade #2)

“I can feel you lurking over there.”

Callie froze, caught like a deer in headlights.

It had been two days since she showed up and took care of me. After helping me cleanse myself of the stale hospital smell, Callie put me in a fresh pair of pajamas that she had sourced from the main house, and then curled up beside me on top of the bed until I fell asleep.

She didn’t leave my side the entire two days, not even when I cried so much, I vomited all over the clean pajamas. She simply undressed me, cleaned me up again, and redressed me without a lick of judgement.

“Lurking is such an intrusive word.” Callie loitered closely, nursing a mug of peppermint tea. “I’m merely checking in on you.”

“Whatever you say, but you’re giving off serious creeper vibes.”

She rolled her eyes. “What time is your appointment today?”

I shrugged, refusing to meet her gaze as I reached for a brownie. “Want half of my brownie?” I offered, trying to keep the conversation light. “I think I need to stop eating them. Pretty sure I’ve consumed a week’s worth of calories eating all these bad boys.”

If it hadn’t been for the brownies, I’d have passed out from starvation.

Food hadn’t tasted the same since my accident, and my appetite was all but non-existent since I left the hospital. Thankfully, my stomach was somehow able to stomach the chocolate-indulgent brownies I kept cramming down my throat.

“I’ll call Rob and ask him to bake us some more when he gets home from his work trip,” Callie said. “I’d do it myself but me in the kitchen is asking for trouble. You remember that time you let me try and cook dinner all by myself?”

“You nearly burnt the apartment down,” I laughed. “It still baffles me how you were able to set fire to that pillow.”

“Because I panicked! The hob burst into flames, and I blindly grabbed the first thing I could. Hardly my fault that I lifted the most flammable thing to use as a shield.”

“How you managed to do that while trying to heat water for the pasta is beyond me.”

“Living proof that I am not designed for the kitchen,” Callie said. “It’s why I am marrying a man who can cook, bake, and give me multiple orgasms. The winning trifecta.”

She wasn’t wrong. Rob was the perfect match for Callie.

After several disastrous boyfriends, Callie had all but sworn off men until Rob popped into her life that random day in the second-hand bookstore near our old apartment.

It was basically love at first sight for them.

He made her laugh more than anyone else, and painfully, that included me. In a short couple of months, he swept her completely off her heels — typical rom-com sort of shit that makes girls swoon.

I remembered thinking they were moving too fast.

That no one fell in love that quickly.

But as I spent each day away from Frederic and Penelope, my heart aching more with every passing minute, I realized how na?ve I had been.

True love wasn’t something you could control.

It was timeless. It moved without rationality.

It was an unrelenting force that could pull you in no matter how prepared you were.

“If I could request he make some fudge brownies this time, that would be amazing.” I forced a chocolate-filled mouthful down past the wedge that had homed itself in my throat at the mere thought of Frederic. “Though I might need to buy bigger trousers if I keep eating them at this rate.”

Callie’s grin softened, but there was a quiet understanding in her eyes. “I don’t know how you do it, Orla. You’re so strong, even when you’re falling apart.”

I froze, caught off guard by her words.

Because the truth was, I felt anything but strong right now.

My life, my whole world, was falling apart around me, and all I could do was stuff my feelings down with chocolate-infused calories.

Quickly masking the feeling with a forced smile, my hand subconsciously reached for another thick brownie.

“Are you going to answer my question now?” Callie sipped her tea. “Or do you want to continue dancing around everything for a couple more days?”

“Hey, you know I’ve always been one hell of a dancer.”

She sighed softly, setting her mug down. “Orla, you’re worrying me. I know you said you just needed a breather, time to recenter yourself, but this whole isolating yourself and now dodging your physiotherapy appointments isn’t healthy.”

I forced a mouthful of brownie down my throat.

“You know you can talk to me, no matter what. The good, the bad, the downright ugly, I am here for you.”

My shoulders slumped. “Going to those appointments is my last chance of regaining any, if at all, strength and mobility back. What if I fail? What if it isn’t enough? What if everything I’ve worked for, my art, my whole life’s dream, ends right here? What if that part of my life is just...gone?”

“And what if it isn’t?”

“The doctors at the hospital sure seem to think it is. My last surgeon said that the damage was irreversible and I’d be lucky to regain anything.”

Defiance sparked in her eyes. “Screw doctors. They don’t know everything, Orla.”

“They know a hell of a lot more than you and me.”

“Well, I say they don’t get to decide what’s possible for you. Not when I know how strong you really are.”

“I just need a little more time to mentally process everything. I need to come to terms and figure out who I am and what the hell I am going to do with my life,” I murmured. “A couple more days, that’s all. A couple more days and then I’ll waltz my way to physiotherapy.”

Callie shook her head. “No way, not happening. Because I refuse to sit by any longer and watch you wallow anymore. This isn’t you, Orla, and I am going to help shake you out of it one way or another.”

“It’s not just my hand,” I said quietly. “What if I’m not enough anymore?”

Her brows furrowed. “Enough for who?”

The memory of Frederic that I crammed into a tight little box came back full force. I’d tried not to think about him the last six days, but it was downright impossible.

I missed him so fucking much.

And don’t get me started on Penelope — not seeing her was like trying to survive without oxygen.

I looked up, my voice trembling as I spoke the words that had been suffocating me. “What if I’m no longer enough for Frederic?”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Right now, I feel like I’m driving down a pitch-black road with no headlights. Lost and freaking the fuck out. He fell in love with the old me, the one who was whole. What if he doesn’t love this damaged version of me?”

In the blink of an eye, Callie plonked herself beside me and fished her phone out of her pocket. She tapped on the screen and showed me the hundreds of messages flooding her inbox.

Each one of them was from Frederic.

“You really think this will stop him loving you?” Callie placed a hand on my back, rubbing in small circles. “The man is heartbroken without you, trust me, I’ve had to listen to it every day when he calls to ask how you are.”

“He calls you?”

“Multiple times a day, every damn day. Why do you think I keep disappearing into the bathroom?” Callie chuckled lightly. “Trust me if it wasn’t for the fact he is clearly head over heels in love with you, I’d be blocking his ass.”

Tears welled in my eyes. “I don’t want to be another obligation he feels responsible for.” I sniffled. “This is all my fault. I stupidly and helplessly fell in love with my boss. If I’d just quit the second I developed feelings, none of this would have happened.”

“Okay, you need to listen to me. You’ve had a massive shock in your life, it’s totally understandable that you need time to absorb that,” Callie soothed.

“But your dream isn’t over, not when there are other ways.

There are people out there who create art with their mouths, their feet, and their non-dominant hand.

There are so many options for you, Orla, you just have to swallow your fear and risk it. ”

“But…”

Callie cut me off with a single look. “You don’t get to quit on yourself. I won’t let you, you hear me?”

Not bothering to fight back the weak sobs, I leaned into my best friend.

“You and I both know that art doesn’t just come from your hands.

It comes from here.” She placed her hand gently on my chest, right over my heart.

“This is where your art lives, and it always will. But you and I both know it’s also where Frederic and his little girl live.

So, don’t you dare let fear steal all that from you. ”

She was right.

Fear had gotten in my way and single-handedly tricked me into thinking I needed the space I once clung on to as a teenager to protect myself, but in reality, every second away from Frederic was slowly suffocating me.

I needed him.

I needed Penelope.

I needed us.

Callie hugged me tighter, ignoring my two-day-old mascara staining her top. “Dare to push through the fear, because if you don’t, you’ll lose much more than the feeling in your hand, and you and I both know you’ll never come back from that.”