What I Need

“You weren’t stupid,” CJ corrects me. “Wanting your man with you is not you being stupid, babe. So quit thinking that. Okay?”

I nod, letting CJ know I hear him. Then thinking back to his words from a minute ago, I tilt my head and ask, “What do you mean, this was on you? What did you do? It was all Richard.”

How can CJ think he was responsible for any of this? He was trying to protect me.

CJ stares at me for a breath, then he rubs at his mouth and scratches his jaw. His eyes cast down to a spot on the bed. “I wasn’t watching him like I should’ve been watching him,” he begins to explain. “I’m trained to look out for stuff like that. To be ready for it. I wasn’t. I was watching you.” CJ lets his hand drop to the bed. Our eyes meet. “I couldn’t brace when he hit me. I wasn’t ready for it.”

“He hit you really hard. I saw him.” My stomach drops at the memory. “I don’t think you could’ve braced for it. It was out of nowhere.”

CJ’s mouth twitches. He drops his head back, laughing a little. “Nice, babe. I’m already out for five months with the injuries I got. Are you trying to bruise my ego on top of it?”

I feel my eyes widen. Something sick twists in my gut.

Five months?

“Five months? You’re going to be laid up for five months?” I ask, leaning closer to the bed. “They said that?”

CJ lifts his head again and jerks his shoulder, answering, “Close to it, probably. Depending on how my PT goes. There’s potential nerve damage.”

I inhale sharply through my nose, feeling it tingle.

Nerve damage?

Oh, no. Nononono.

Oh, my God . . .

“Potential,” CJ repeats, watching me. “They’re not saying it’s definite. I’m not worried about it.”

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, emotion breaking in my voice.

CJ’s mouth goes tight. “Babe,” he starts, head tilting as he looks at me, wanting to shut me down again, I just know it, but I ignore him. I keep going.

“I hate that this happened. I know you were just trying to protect me. That’s why you got me away from him before we were separated, right? You knew Richard was on something.”

CJ nods.

“I should’ve stayed with you,” I continue. “I never should’ve let him take me outside. This is my fault. I’m so sorry, CJ.”

He pulls in a deep breath through his nose and exhales it noisily. His jaw is set. He looks ready to argue with me again, but a knock on the door turns his head and then mine.

I watch a nurse walk into the room. She’s holding a folder in her hand and smiling at CJ. She doesn’t even take notice of me.

“Hello. I just wanted to bring in the home nurse information I was telling you about. I went ahead and got it from your insurance company for you,” she informs him, sounding proud of herself. She sets the folder on his food tray that’s pulled up next to the bed.

“Thanks. Appreciate it,” CJ replies.

The nurse smiles bigger. I think I see her batting her lashes, but maybe it’s just the dry hospital air causing her to blink rapidly.

Or maybe she has a twitch she’s not aware of . . .

“Shall I change your linens while I’m in here?” she asks, looking eager for that possibility. “It’ll only take me a minute.”

I look at the linens on the bed. They appear freshly changed to me. The top sheet still has creases in it.

My gaze returns to the nurse and narrows.

What’s her deal?

Laughter rumbles in CJ’s chest. “I’m good,” he tells her, sounding polite. “Thanks. I’ll let you know if I need that.”

The nurse keeps her smile and fiddles with his IV, checking the line. Then after pressing a button on the monitor and messing with the leads on his chest, something I’m not sure needs to be done since his vitals seem to be registering just fine, she announces she’ll be back in to check on him later and leaves the room.

I watch this happen, feeling CJ’s eyes on my profile. And when I turn to look at him, at the bed he’s in and the hospital gown his chest seems too big for, that same guilt hits me. But before I can open my mouth to apologize again, CJ grabs the folder off the tray and drops it in his lap.

“Do you live with him?” he asks, meeting my eyes again.

My brows pull tight. “Richard?”

CJ jerks his chin.

“Yeah. I mean, I did,” I answer. “I need to move out. Even though he’ll probably be in jail for a while, I don’t want to live there.”

“Are you getting an apartment?”

“I can’t really afford one,” I reply. “I don’t work right now. I can’t with my school schedule. I have savings that pay for gas and groceries and stuff like that but I can’t really afford rent. I’ll probably just go live with my parents in Thomasville. It'll be a drive to school, but I don't have a lot of options.”

“You could move in with me,” CJ suggests.

My brows raise. “What?” I ask, voice quiet.

CJ taps the folder in his lap. “My insurance’ll cover a nurse to stop by once a week. You’re a nurse. Aside from making sure I’m healing properly, you could help me out around the house since I’m not going to be able to do much. They said I’ll be on crutches for a while. I can’t imagine keeping up with shit while I’m getting around on those. It’s probably going to be a pain in the ass.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">