Dark Love (The Two Sides of Me Book 3) (12 page)

I glance back at the group; Gabriella is sniffing dabbing her eyes with a tissue; Simone has his arm around her shoulders beaming a broad, genuine smile that touches his eyes. And Isaac leans with his back against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest expressionless. I’m not able to examine his frame of mind because Evan’s grip tightens bringing me back to him. The doctor runs through several steps of a neuro exam, speaking to Evan in Italian and I wonder if that’s the best idea, shouldn’t he speak English? He is from Italy though, born and raised until he was a teenager; Italian truly is his native language. He suddenly switches to English with a thick accent.

“Everything seems to be going fine, Mr. Lawson. Are you able to speak yet?”

“Yes.”

“Are you in pain?”

“Yes.” This disturbs me; I don’t like the idea of him having been in pain all this time and unable to communicate that with us.

“We can give you a higher dose of medication for the pain.” Evan has been doing well with the one-word answers until now, but he pauses before finally answering no.

“Evan, you don’t need to be in pain, please let them help you.” His eyes move to me.

“No.” he answers again.

“Mrs. Lawson, if I may…we can wait a little while, if his blood pressure goes up I’ll have to insist though. Things are progressing so well I don’t want any increased pressure on the brain.”

I still don’t know this physician's name and I scan his white coat for a badge, but I can’t see it.”

“Yes, I understand Dr…?”

“Carmichael, I’m sorry I haven’t introduced myself properly.”

“It’s ok, so, Dr. Carmichael, as I was saying, I understand, I’m an ICU nurse in the States but isn’t allowing his pain level to get out of control a risk in and of itself?”

“Yes, I don’t expect it will go that far though. You will tell the nurse won’t you, Mr. Lawson?” I interrupt before he can answer.

“No, no he won’t tell you. He’s stubborn and proud, and he will let it go until it’s unbearable.” My hand is now being crushed, his brow furrowed deeply, jaw ticking.

“Don’t,” he pushes the word out with effort.

“No Evan, I know you and you’ll wait too long. Let them up your dose until tomorrow at least…please.” Dr. Carmichael is looking at me like an escapee from an insane asylum; clearly he doesn’t think I should be arguing with the infamous Mr. Lawson. Evan closes his eyes, squeezing them tight.

“Ok.”

I sigh in relief, thank God! He continues to keep his eyes closed; he’s done with this conversation, and this is his way of communicating that.

“Thank you, Dr. Carmichael; will we see you in the morning?”

“Yes, I’m sleeping here tonight and I will return for rounds at 7 a.m.” I reach across the bed with my free hand and shake his hand and give a curt polite smile before he exits. Evan’s eyes are still closed, but his grip is tight. When I look up to follow his movements out the door, I’m again distracted by Isaac’s expression, and I look at him with question frowning and tilting my head to the side. He ever so slightly shakes himself from his thoughts when he catches my eye.

He quietly comes to stand by me, placing his hand on the small of my back and looking down at Evan whose eyes snap open as soon as Isaac’s hand has connected with my back. He looks menacing, he can’t see Isaac’s hand touching me, but he feels a disturbance in our force field. These gestures between Isaac and I have become so natural that it takes me a moment to figure out what is going on. Not Isaac though, he realizes his lapse in judgment and removes his hand at once. This isn’t good, I am in so deep with Evan I can’t even imagine what he could have to be jealous of and Isaac has quickly become my best friend second only to my husband.

Somehow I’ve got to fix this, but not right now. “I’m glad you’re awake, sir.” Isaac addresses him formally; it seems so strange to hear him talk like this. Isaac is his employee, but he’s also the closest thing to a friend Evan’s got other than me and he needs friends, whether he wants them or not. Gabriella and Simone are now on the other side of the bed; she has his other hand clasped between hers.

“Hey brother, you decided to join your own party. It’s good to see those eyes, I’m glad you’re back.” She is awarded a hint of a smile, the only one he’s given out so far. Shifting his eyes back to me, I know before he can get the word out what he needs.

“Sleep.,” he says. He looks exhausted, this small amount of interaction is more than he’s had in days, and I have to remind myself of the need for baby steps.

“Yes, baby, close your eyes, rest, I’ll be here when you wake up again. Promise.” His sharp greens plead with me for reassurance, I wasn’t here the first time, and my heart aches with regret.

“Really, I won’t go anywhere. I only stepped away for five minutes today, the only time in 3 days! It’s not my fault you chose then to wake up.” I throw a little spunk at him to lighten the atmosphere, and it works.

“You go, I go,” he works the words from his jumbled supply and I gently return to my place on his chest, careful not to upset any tubing or jostle his body. As I lay here, I begin the work of thanking God over and over for giving me my life back.

Hours later after falling to sleep sitting sideways on the bed with my chest against his rock hard abdomen, I wake with my hair unbraided and fanned over my body like a blanket. I can tell he is still sleeping from his regular soft breathing pattern, my body rising and falling with each breath he takes. I should move, my side burns, my left ass cheek is numb; actually my entire left side is numb. I shift to sit up and help the blood return to those areas, so it’s safe to stand but instinctually his arms tighten, and he’s awake.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, but I can’t feel my leg, baby, I have to move.” He frees me, and I get a face full of crazy curls when I sit up.

“What have you been doing here?” I ask playfully
as I scoop it away from my face and feel around for the hair tie that had been keeping it somewhat under control. I find it and wrap the mess back up into a knot at the nape of my neck. He gives a tiny shoulder shrug and his trademark smirk. He’s killing me here. It’s not quite New Years, only three days since we had our rendezvous right here in this bed but my body craves him, like gravity he pulls me in oblivious of the effect he’s having on me, or so it seems. As the blood returns to my deadened
side, I look thoughtfully at him, switching my gaze from his eyes to the scar on his head and then settling on his lips before I close my eyes. He reaches up and drags his palm down my face gently brushing my eyelids with the tips of his fingers and then around the side of my neck and resting finally flat against the center of my chest. I keep my eyes closed and relax under his power, the connection between us stronger than ever before. My heart beats under his hand, increasing initially and leveling off to a steady beat as the minutes go by, kind of like our relationship. We started out with high drama and intense complications, his accident, our pasts, and a brain tumor. We’ve ridden through the peaks and plummets of the roller coaster, and finally we have come to a long stretch where things will settle,
and we can enjoy the calm after the storm. I hope.

We are alone now, everyone has gone home, and I wish we could go home too. “When can we go?” he asks. I lazily open my eyes are not surprised any more by his ability to know exactly what I’m thinking.

“Soon I hope. How’s your pain?” I glance up at the monitor that takes his blood pressure frequently. It’s perfect.

“Fine.” I wouldn’t expect him to answer any other way, his body will be the only indicator if he’s hurting, and I know he will never tell me, I don’t know why I bother asking. Yes I do, I ask, so he knows I’m worried, he hates when I worry. Maybe he will take some damn pain meds so I won’t have to. I purse my lips and look at him skeptically. “Really, I’m fine.”

“You sound better, seems like speaking is a little easier, yea?”

“Yes, a little.” I lean to kiss his full mouth softly, and he surprises me by biting my lip while I’m there.

“Ouch! Hey, you! You’re not supposed to be frisky.” I giggle, and he smiles, a real smile this time not holding anything back he flashes me his perfectly straight, bright white teeth and I wonder… “Did you have braces or are your teeth naturally that straight?” I ask.

He snorts softly “Natural, these are all mine, baby.” He grins again this time with purpose, showing me even more of his teeth. “Why do you ask?”

“I dunno, just wondering.”

“Would you still love me if they were fake?” Wow that’s the most he’s said since waking up, and such a funny topic of conversation. I roll my eyes.

“Would you still love
me
if
I
had fake teeth?” I
counter, and he screws up his face in mock horror putting his first finger in my mouth and pulling it open to investigate.

“You have fake teeth?!” He asks playfully

“Of course not!” I bat his hand away.

“You never answered me,” he says,

“I would love you even if you had no teeth, Mr. Lawson.”

“Good to know, Mrs. Lawson.”

I have regained all feeling in my leg now, and I’ve got to use the bathroom. “I need to pee.”

“You sure?”

I smile again. “Yea pretty sure.
”

“Ok, hurry back.” I scoot away and look back over my shoulder wiggling my eyebrows mischievously and shaking my ass causing him to moan, ha! He feels it too! Good to know, Mr. Lawson, I think to myself, good to know.

It’s been two days, and Evan has made impressive progress, even Dr. Carmichael is stunned when he did his rounds today. Evan is out of bed in a reclining chair using my iPad. He wanted to work, he came as close to begging for his laptop as Evan could, which was basically asking repeatedly and annoyingly until I proposed a compromise and handed over the iPad. I’m pretty sure he’s accessed his email and made contact with business associates, but I leave him be. As long as he’s doing so well I can’t see any harm in him dipping his toe back into business, and who’s going to stop him anyway?

“Ahh, Mr. Lawson, you’re looking well, you’ve made remarkable progress.” Dr. Carmichael gushes with his heavy Italian accent.

“I’m going home.” Evan declares. Ah, fucking hell! I knew this was inevitable; I’m actually surprised he waited this long, which shows me the extent of his dependence on others. Anything less than a coma, brain surgery or broken bones wouldn’t have held him here this long.

“Evan, just a few more days, come on, seriously you need to be monitored closely!” I cry.

“No no, Mrs. Lawson, your husband has assured me he has adequate staff and emergency equipment at home to enable him the freedom of leaving. I think it would be fine for him to go, as long as he takes it easy.” He’s falling all over his words, I can see what’s going on here and I don’t like it.

Dr. Carmichael wants Evan out of his hospital just as much as Evan wants to be gone, they’ve discussed it without me, it’s a done deal.

“See baby? Nothing to worry about, the doctor here says it’s ok.” Yeah, I’ll bet. He probably paid him for discharge orders, or…no; he wouldn’t threaten him would he? That’s the old Evan; the heartless Evan is gone along with the tumor.

“You don’t believe him?” Evan’s voice drips with fake astonishment.

“No, I don’t.” I stand my ground before these two powerful men; I literally stand up and cross my arms across my chest in defiance. Evan puts down the tablet and motions me closer to him.

“No. You’re not going to hypnotize me.” I say pointing my finger at Evan “And you're not going to be manipulated by this man.” I point at Dr. Carmichael. Evan covers his mouth with his hand to hide his laughter and my blood boils.

I turn all of my attention to Dr. Carmichael now “You do know you’re still responsible for him when he’s discharged, he could go home and do too much, end up back here or worse.” I glare at him and pray to God he’s getting my point. “You know who he is don’t you?”

“Now Mia, that’s enough.” Evan snaps. He’s not laughing now; he’s dead serious. I look from the doctor to Evan and back to the doctor who is now far more distressed, good. How can he even think of discharging him three days after major brain surgery?

“Sir, if your wife would be more comfortable having you monitored another day or two…” Dr. Carmichael is hushed by Evan.