So instead I make soup, Simple, light and something warm.
The entire time I cook, my thoughts drift upstairs toward Zane, toward the fact that he's alive….Actually alive, here and breathing.
I still can't fully process how close I came to losing him.
By the time I carry the tray upstairs later, the house has settled into an eerie quiet outside the occasional footsteps of security downstairs.
Zane looks half asleep when I walk back into the room but his eyes immediately open when he sees me.
"There's my nurse."
I place the tray down carefully.
"If you call me nurse again, I'm charging you hospital fees."
"Can I pay in compliments?"
"No."
"In kisses?"
I try not to smile and fail miserably.
"Eat your soup."
He obeys surprisingly easily, though mostly because I sit beside him while he eats. At some point, his fingers curl loosely around my wrist, absentminded and it's comforting.
When he finishes, I take the bowl away and settle beside him again.
