I stared at Conner, startled, but before I could dwell on it, he pulled me close and led me away without another word.
Soon, a nurse arrived to treat his wounds. He sat obediently in the chair, though his face twisted in pain. “Carrie, could you please be a little gentler?” he grimaced, trying to sound lighthearted.
The head nurse shot him a sidelong glance, her tone sharp yet composed. “Dr. Wright, you’re not a young man anymore. Picking fights like this? You deserve the pain.”
Conner inhaled sharply, wincing again as she worked. I noticed him sneaking quick glances at
- me.
The head nurse raised her voice. “If I go easy, how will the girl feel sorry for you?” She wrapped up her task deftly and left the room, disappearing as quickly as she had come.
Now, the small space was quiet, leaving only Conner and me in awkward silence. Neither of us spoke, and an awkward tension hung in the air like a thick fog.
Finally, it was Conner who broke the stillness. He looked at me with a feigned pitiful expression. “If I don’t take proper care of this hand, it might never recover.
I glanced up at him in alarm. “Is it really that serious?”
He nodded solemnly. “Yes. For now, I can’t let it get wet or lift anything too heavy.” Then,
with an oddly playful tone, he added, “Which means I’ll have to trouble you for the time being.
11
I wanted to refuse, but the words never left my mouth. After all, he was injured because of me. And so, without further argument, I found myself agreeing to become Conner’s personal
caretaker.
From that day on, I went back and forth between my home and his, attending to his needs. But I wasn’t the only one making these trips.
There was Elliott.
