After the awkward experience of a catheter removal, a few hobbling walks to the bathroom, a round of pain medication, and an unappetizing dinner of salty yet tasteless beef broth brought to my room from the cafeteria (which was little more than hot water and bouillon—but I digress), I fall asleep, with no word from Lucas, watching the light wane from my window.
When my eyes flutter open again, the room is dark, with the faint hint of moonlight relieving the shadows. There's the steady beeping of monitors and the muffled sound of activity in the hall, but otherwise, my room is silent and still.
My heart's racing, but I didn't have a nightmare. Something prickles against my skin, an awareness of someone in the room.
Lucas is asleep in the recliner beside my bed. His features are relaxed, the usual intensity gone from his expression in rest. I study him in the low light, taking in the dark stubble along his jaw, the way his dark lashes fan across his cheekbones.
