At the hospital, he had held my hand and smiled at the nurse.
“Don’t worry,” he said warmly. “I’ll take care of her.”
The nurse looked at me like I had won some rare prize.
“She’s lucky to have you.”
I smiled because I thought she was right.
But the first crack appeared almost as soon as we got home.
My mother called on FaceTime, worried and breathless.
“Kate, sweetheart, let me see you.”
Adam immediately sat beside me and put his arm around my shoulders.
“She’s doing great, Marissa,” he said smoothly. “I’m making sure she doesn’t lift a finger.”
Mom’s face softened.
“Oh, Adam. You’re an angel.”
“Always,” he said.
I leaned against him, grateful and exhausted.
Then the call ended.
Adam stood so suddenly that I nearly tipped sideways on the bed.
“I’m gonna hop on for a bit,” he said. “You good?”
“Yeah,” I answered automatically. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Good.”
Then he disappeared down the hall into his gaming room.
The door clicked shut behind him.
I stared at it for a long moment, telling myself he was tired. He had spent hours at the hospital. He deserved a break.
That became the first excuse.
There would be many.
The next day, Denise came by with food and a card.
Adam answered the door before I could call out.
“There she is,” Denise said when she saw me. “How’s our patient?”
“Recovering,” Adam replied easily. “I’m keeping her off her feet.”
He crossed the room, kissed the top of my head, and tucked the blanket around my cast.
For one second, I almost believed the performance myself.
“You picked a good one,” Denise said.
I smiled because it was easier than explaining the truth I had not admitted to myself yet.
The moment the door closed, Adam dropped the blanket and started toward the hall.
“Can you grab my water before you go?” I asked.
He did not even turn around.
“I’ll get it later.”
Seconds later, the gaming room door closed again.
By the third day, the man everyone praised had become someone else entirely.
“Adam, could you bring me a glass of water when you have a second?” I called.
From the hallway, he sighed like I had asked him to rebuild the house.
“Seriously, Kate? I just sat down.”
“I’m sorry. My bottle’s empty, and I can’t reach the kitchen.”
“Fine.”
The glass appeared on my nightstand twenty minutes later.
Half full.
Warm.
