out. The next second, a nurse rushed in.
“Don't try moving,” she advised me at once, and
came to look at whatever machines were hooked up to me. On her way, she frowned
at the roses. “I don't know who was insensitive enough to bring these. I'll
take them away as soon as I'm done here.”
“No.” My throat was parched but I pushed the words
out anyway. “I like them. Can you give me the note?”
“No. I told you not to move. But I'll read it to
you.”
The note wasn't signed, but of course I knew who
had written it. All it said was, “Never scare me like that again.” Will is a
true poet, sometimes.
I kept expecting him to visit me, kept remembering
his hand in mine and his voice promising I'd be okay. But he didn't come, not
for the entire time I was in the hospital. That was just one more thing for me
to yell about when I saw him next.
A doctor came in, sat down with me, broke the news
that I'd never be able to have children. I just stared at her when she was done
and wondered how to tell her that I had never wanted to have any to begin with.
All I could think when she left me alone was that Will would have understood.
Better than anyone else, I thought, he knew how much the Guard meant to me. It
was more than a career, it was my life. If the doctor had said I'd never fight
again, then I would have had reasons to be upset.
When Lorenzo walked in, the first thing I felt—the
only thing I felt—was guilt. Because I had thought about Will since waking up,
enough to wonder where he was and when he would come to see me, but I hadn't
given a single thought to the man who had been my boyfriend for the past four years.
He pulled a chair and sat down next to me.
“I need to tell you something. Something very
important. When I arrived in this town, I had nothing. My clan was in tatters,
our Sire was dead, and we didn't know where to go or what to do. Will came to
us, gave us a choice. Gave me a purpose. Protecting you.”
I would have stopped him, then, but he didn't let
me. He just kept talking, as though he needed to get it all out. He probably
did, I suppose.
“It was just a job at first and then we started
talking, and you taught me to fight better, and I began to… care. I felt
something I hadn’t felt since I was turned, something I thought I could never
feel again. Something I wasn’t supposed to feel. And it stopped to be a job.
It became just natural to protect you, like you protected me. And today on the
field, I felt… naked without you at my back, and seeing you lying there, hurt
and bleeding… it was like dying all over again, except more painful this time.”
When long minutes passed and I still hadn’t said a
word, he stood. Truth is, I didn't know what to say. What do you say to someone
who tells you the past four years have been based on a lie? What are you even
supposed to feel?
“I understand,” he said. He was smiling, but it was
the saddest smile he had ever given me. “I'll let you rest, now.”
I caught his hand as he walked by. Moving hurt my
abdomen, and I gasped. He looked back at me.
“It hurts.” There were tears in my voice. I always
hated crying so much.
“I'll get the nurse.”
“No, that's not… What you just said… that hurts. I
thought you…” He didn't want to say love, so I wasn't going to either. “…cared
about me from the start. I did.”
“Not from the start, maybe. Not like that. But now
I do, more than I should.”
I squeezed his hand. “So do I.”
I was in the hospital for three weeks. Lorenzo
practically moved in with me. He went to fight at night, of course, but he
always came back to me. The nurses complained but in the end they gave up. He
slept in my bed during the day, curled up against me, always so very careful
not to hurt me. I spent my time stroking his hair and thinking. It took me time
but I decided during these three, long weeks, that words only have the value
you attach to them, and that I could live without being told I
“Don't try moving,” she advised me at once, and
came to look at whatever machines were hooked up to me. On her way, she frowned
at the roses. “I don't know who was insensitive enough to bring these. I'll
take them away as soon as I'm done here.”
“No.” My throat was parched but I pushed the words
out anyway. “I like them. Can you give me the note?”
“No. I told you not to move. But I'll read it to
you.”
The note wasn't signed, but of course I knew who
had written it. All it said was, “Never scare me like that again.” Will is a
true poet, sometimes.
I kept expecting him to visit me, kept remembering
his hand in mine and his voice promising I'd be okay. But he didn't come, not
for the entire time I was in the hospital. That was just one more thing for me
to yell about when I saw him next.
A doctor came in, sat down with me, broke the news
that I'd never be able to have children. I just stared at her when she was done
and wondered how to tell her that I had never wanted to have any to begin with.
All I could think when she left me alone was that Will would have understood.
Better than anyone else, I thought, he knew how much the Guard meant to me. It
was more than a career, it was my life. If the doctor had said I'd never fight
again, then I would have had reasons to be upset.
When Lorenzo walked in, the first thing I felt—the
only thing I felt—was guilt. Because I had thought about Will since waking up,
enough to wonder where he was and when he would come to see me, but I hadn't
given a single thought to the man who had been my boyfriend for the past four years.
He pulled a chair and sat down next to me.
“I need to tell you something. Something very
important. When I arrived in this town, I had nothing. My clan was in tatters,
our Sire was dead, and we didn't know where to go or what to do. Will came to
us, gave us a choice. Gave me a purpose. Protecting you.”
I would have stopped him, then, but he didn't let
me. He just kept talking, as though he needed to get it all out. He probably
did, I suppose.
“It was just a job at first and then we started
talking, and you taught me to fight better, and I began to… care. I felt
something I hadn’t felt since I was turned, something I thought I could never
feel again. Something I wasn’t supposed to feel. And it stopped to be a job.
It became just natural to protect you, like you protected me. And today on the
field, I felt… naked without you at my back, and seeing you lying there, hurt
and bleeding… it was like dying all over again, except more painful this time.”
When long minutes passed and I still hadn’t said a
word, he stood. Truth is, I didn't know what to say. What do you say to someone
who tells you the past four years have been based on a lie? What are you even
supposed to feel?
“I understand,” he said. He was smiling, but it was
the saddest smile he had ever given me. “I'll let you rest, now.”
I caught his hand as he walked by. Moving hurt my
abdomen, and I gasped. He looked back at me.
“It hurts.” There were tears in my voice. I always
hated crying so much.
“I'll get the nurse.”
“No, that's not… What you just said… that hurts. I
thought you…” He didn't want to say love, so I wasn't going to either. “…cared
about me from the start. I did.”
“Not from the start, maybe. Not like that. But now
I do, more than I should.”
I squeezed his hand. “So do I.”
I was in the hospital for three weeks. Lorenzo
practically moved in with me. He went to fight at night, of course, but he
always came back to me. The nurses complained but in the end they gave up. He
slept in my bed during the day, curled up against me, always so very careful
not to hurt me. I spent my time stroking his hair and thinking. It took me time
but I decided during these three, long weeks, that words only have the value
you attach to them, and that I could live without being told I
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