Page 26 of Icy Heart, Empty Chest

“ C or? Cora?”

I heard a croaking sound. Sounded vaguely Fae. It’s the only humanoid sound I’d heard in a while. My heart shot through my chest as I fell off my chair and hit the floor. Despite the rug burn, I got up and rushed to my couch.

His eyes were open, his color was better. He was reaching with shaking fingers for a pitcher of water I’d left on the table.

“Oh gods. Damien.”

My voice was soft but my body was vibrating.

“You’re alive.” I stared at him. My brain was processing too slowly.

“I don’t feel like it,” he coughed. “Can I have some water please?”

I shook back into nurse mode and knelt to pour him the water.

He drank it greedily and I refilled it.

“What day is it?” he asked groggily.

“You’ve been out for ten days now,” I said flatly. I was willing the unshed tears of frustration and sleeplessness to stay back but it was a losing battle.

I sunk down against the table, splayed like a doll, totally overcome.

“Worried…doesn’t even begin to cover it. Filla told me it was hopeless past a week.” I reached up to my burning eyes to wipe away the tears.

“Good news, I think you’re stuck with me for a while,” he groaned. He looked at his arms and started to flex to get the muscles moving again.

I closed my eyes as the rest of the tears fell. I could barely believe it. Calming myself was proving trying.

“Can you get me upright?

I moved to my feet and raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been flat for a while. Go slow, don’t pass out.”

He took my hand and I pulled him to a sitting position. He flexed his neck back and forth, noting the disarray that was my house.

“What happened around here?”

I glared. “You were on the verge of death for a while. I didn’t feel like cleaning.”

He shot me a disbelieving look. “But you stress clean.”

“I just couldn’t, OK?”

He didn’t have an answer to that yet.

He made to brace himself on the couch to get up.

“Whoa, what are you doing?”

“Cor, I have to get off my ass. I’m beyond stiff and sore.” I could see the tension lining his face.

I shook my head. “If you have to, then at least lean on me?” He didn’t argue.

I went to sit next to him and he pushed off, putting his arm around my waist.

“How do you feel?”

“Like I ran a marathon through a hurricane,” he grimaced. I wouldn’t be surprised if that was something he’d actually tried to do.

His arm tightened around my waist as he pulled me into a half hug.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

His words broke the dam on the tears that had ceased.

“I was so worried, you asshole.” I was sobbing into his shoulder. “You were just lying there and I didn’t know if you were dead or dying or somewhere in between. I couldn’t even tell if you were getting better.”

He pressed his dry lips into a kiss on my head.

“Gods almighty, Dae.”

“I’m so sorry for having to put you through all that,” he said, cheek glued to my hair. “Never in a million years did I think this would be the outcome.”

My chest was still heaving against him. I haven’t cried this hard since the day of my father’s funeral.

“Hey, Cor? I’m OK. I’m here.”

“But you almost weren’t,” I wailed. The sound echoed through my small apartment.

He didn’t have an answer for that either, just kept stroking my head. The tears unloaded from over a week of stress. But he was there. He was real, in my arms again.

With my sniffling subsiding, I pulled away and wiped my eyes again. “Shower and then food?”

“Oh gods yes.”

I eyed his walking as he softly, stiffly moved toward my bathroom. His hobble showed what his face did not; the muscles in his legs were spasming. I sighed. I very likely needed a shower too.

I heard the shower head start hissing with water and looked around.

It had been a new feeling, being so paralyzed with fear that you couldn’t bear to do most anything else.

I stalked to the kitchen and started to root around, finding two cans of soup and dumping them into a clean pot on the stove.

I started to clean through the kitchen. By the time he had reappeared in the kitchen, a fresh pot of coffee was on, the soup was ready, all dishes had been delegated to the washer and a window was cracked to freshen up the place.

I knew I’d need to go food shopping if I was going to be taking him on for a while.

When he did reappear, it was in my own fluffy purple bathrobe.

I snorted most elegantly and then doubled over laughing. Get yourself someone who you can cry your heart out on that can make you laugh ten minutes later.

“You may have to be in that for a bit until I can get some clothes for you,” I choked out.

He mimed a small curtsy and headed to the table. As he sat down, he winced. I delivered a giant bowl of soup, a large glass of water and a couple of coffees.

“You’re an angel, Cor.”

I blushed a bit. “Just a nymph. But, go slow please. I don’t want to add vomiting to your problem list.”

He nodded and started on the soup.

“What happened to me?”

I raised an eyebrow and gave him a flinty look over my coffee. “You got a witch to take out your heart a few years ago and then boom, everything explodes.”

He nodded wearily. “I guess I deserve that. The last thing I remember was you dragging me to Filla’s.”

I put my cup down and stared at him.

“There may have been some illegal acts in the process of your revival.”

He paused while drinking his coffee. “I’ll count the charges while you tell me,” he said dryly.

“Once we struck out at Ziedlin’s house, I was down to my last few ideas.

So instead of guessing, I decided to check.

I went to Ziedlin’s conference and stole a badge.

Sat through some presentations, super interesting by the way, and then threatened him in a closet at knifepoint.

I proceeded to threaten to blackmail him with the knowledge of your heart and that I would announce it with photographic evidence to the conference audience.

He told me that he left the heart with Filla and was going to pick it up after the conference.

I tried calling you a few times and didn’t get any answer.

So then went to your house. You were on the floor, looking worse than I’d even seen anyone.

I dragged you to my car and to Filla’s.” I looked up, tiredly.

“She almost didn’t do it. I had to beg her. She said you might be too far gone.”

“I remember collapsing. I woke up so tired, sweaty. I tried to get to my phone but I was too weak.” He put down the cup. “How did you convince her? Filla only took it out in the first place because I gave her a substantial amount.”

I stared at my hands, afraid of the words that were going to come out of my own mouth. “I told her that you were the most important person in the world to me and she might as well kill me if you died.”

I could feel his eyes boring holes in me but didn’t look up.

“Cor?” he said in a strangled tone. “You told her that?”

I nodded, still not looking up. I couldn’t.

“Look at me, Cora,” he asked firmly.

I looked up at the beautiful kelpie with the seafoam hair sitting across from me, in my bathrobe, smelling like my shampoo.

“I meant it,” I said quietly.

“I know. Not many people would plan multiple felonies and drag a half dead man for nothing,” he joked. “It’s weird. I’m me again. Full spectrum of emotions and all. The good and the bad.”

“Great, ’cause we’re never doing that again. I’m revoking your magic privileges,’ I announced dramatically.

“I’d say be still my beating heart but I’m pretty sure you don’t want that.”

I cracked a smile. “Man, dude gets his heart back and all of a sudden he’s a comedian.”

His eyes went wide. “Oh gods. My job. YOUR job.”

I raised a hand. “I covered it.”

“What did you tell them?”

“A variation on the truth. I told them that you had a surgery that would take you out of the game for the next month and that you were recuperating with me as your caretaker. When you go back in four weeks, you’re on desk work for a month.

I was vague enough but said you’d need physical therapy.

For you that’s probably a couple of half marathons. ”

“And what about Amy?” He looked wary.

“I filed for temporary leave as your caretaker for the next few weeks.”

“Amy must have been thrilled.”

“She can’t do anything about it, legally.

I had to argue that your mom wasn’t strong enough to help with your rehab but I was the only other family you had.

Besides, I’ve been feeding, washing and changing you for the last week.

It’s more or less the truth. The government is going to pay me for it too,” I remarked dryly.

He winced. “Not how I’d want you to see me.”

I shrugged, nonplussed, warming my ice hands on my mug. “Maybe not, but I wasn’t going to abandon you. You’ve seen me looking less than my best.”

“You’re always beautiful,” was his answer. “Guess I’m not used to feeling vulnerable or dependent either.”

I nodded and moved to get up. “The caretaker needs to take care of herself. I need a shower and a nap badly.”

He nodded. “I’ve got more food to consume.”

I sent a brief tired smile his way and headed toward the bathroom. It was still warm and lightly scented from his shower. I went through the door to the bedroom to grab clean clothes, satisfied with the eating sounds I was hearing.

Closing the door behind me, I stripped off my clothes and turned on my water. Once hot enough to melt my bone marrow, I stepped in and started to scrub over a week’s worth of tension away. He was here and back and I could relax again. I had to keep telling myself that.

After wringing out as much water as I could from my exceedingly long hair, I threw on a T-shirt and shorts and wandered into my bedroom.

Oddly enough, there was a kelpie in my bed, still wearing my bathrobe. I should probably feel more embarrassed. The hair’s a soaked mess. I’m not wearing a bra. Shaving has been forfeited recently. I should be. I wasn’t.