Chapter 2

“You haven’t.” Dane’s voice was low and measured, but confident. That tone always soothed Guy. He wasn’t sure why. “You haven’t lost your life. Dr. Benson made it clear that you will recover fully.”

“It’s easy for Dr. Benson to say, isn’t it?” Guy asked softly.

Dane put his knife down and reached forward, his hand hovering over Guy’s for a split second before he pulled away and focused his attention on the boiling pot of soup. Dane had done that before—come close to touching him, only to stop. And yet, at other times, Dane didn’t hesitate to touch him at all. Times like when it was time to bathe. Or when it was time for bed.

“It’s easy for him to say because he knows he is right.”

“What if it takes a long time? What if you leave before I can remember?”

Dane shook his head. “I won’t. I’m going to stay here as long as you need me. Or as long as you want me.”

Guy tilted his head. “Why wouldn’t I want you to stay?”

“Oh, you know…” Dane turned the stove off and carefully lifted the pan from the burner. He ladled the hot soup into the waiting bowl, his brow furrowed in concentration. “You might get sick of me invading your space and running your life. Sooner or later, you’re going to feel comfortable doing all this yourself. You’ll want to be independent again.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why?”

Guy wheeled himself over to the kitchen table. It was a little too high to sit at comfortably, but Guy didn’t complain. It was a very minor inconvenience. Dane joined him at the table moments later with two plates. The rich smell of the chicken noodle soup made his mouth water, and the sandwich cut into four quarters made him smile.

“Why?” Dane asked again.

“Everything is just…too hard.”

“It all feels too hard, now. But that’s why I’m here. To help you over the hard spot.”

“You won’t leave before I’m ready for you to go, will you?”

Dane hesitated, and Guy thought he saw another wince marring his face. But then it cleared and Dane nodded. “I’m not going anywhere until you’re ready.”

Guy blew cool air across the soup, then sampled it carefully. He was more wary of the heat than the taste. Dane did excellent work in the kitchen.

“Where did you learn how to cook like this? Your mother?”

Dane laughed a little and shook his head. “No. A friend of mine taught me.”

“She must have been a good teacher.”

“He was.” Dane smiled. “I think his mom taught him, but he was quite the gourmand.”

“Was? Why do you talk like you don’t know him anymore? Did something happen to him?”

“No. We just grew apart. It happens, you know.” Dane swirled his spoon in his soup. Guy realized he rarely saw him eat. “What would you like to do after lunch?”

“What are my options?”

“I was actually thinking we could walk down to the park. It’s really nice outside, and you could use the fresh air.”

Guy shrugged. He was mostly indifferent to the various things they did to pass the time when he wasn’t at the hospital. Going to the park was nice. Watching television was nice. Looking through his old belongings—his pictures, his books, his clothes, even his toiletries—was nice. Not nice. Fascinating and a little frightening.

“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“No, I want to. You’re right about the fresh air.”

They ate in silence for several moments. Or rather, Guy ate and Dane simply pushed his soup around in his bowl. It surprised Guy how comfortable they were together. Sometimes, Guy forgot that Dane was nothing more than his nurse. Dane always seemed to know just what he would like to eat, just what made him comfortable, just what he needed at any given time.

“What are you going to do tomorrow?” Guy asked as he pushed his empty bowl away from him.

“What do you mean?”

Guy frowned. “It’s your day off, isn’t it? Or have I gotten the days confused?”

“Oh, no, you’re right. It is my day off. I was just going to run some errands, and then be back in time to cook dinner.”

“That’s not much of a day off, is it?”

“I don’t need much of a day off. You’re not a very difficult patient.”

Guy snorted and shook his head. “Yeah, except for the part where you have to dress me, and bathe me, and occasionally remind me of who I am.”

“Yeah, but you’re pretty patient with me, so it all evens out.”

“Why don’t you ever eat?”

“What?” Dane glanced down to his full bowl. “Oh. Guess I’m just distracted. Do you mind waiting while I finish?”

“Not at all. So don’t you have any family or a girlfriend or anything to visit on your day life?”

Dane shook his head. “No, not really. My family doesn’t live in the area, and I’ve been single for a while now. I guess you can say I’m married to my job.”

“How did I get so lucky to be assigned a caregiver like you?”

“I wish we had never met. That sounds awful, doesn’t it? But I’d rather have never met you than see you in this condition.”

Guy looked down to his mangled body. The bruises he had sustained in the accident had finally started to fade, and the lacerations from the broken glass were starting to heal. The physical injuries were awful, debilitating, but he could live with those. But his memory…God, his memory. He wished he had a better guarantee that it would return.