Chapter 9
In the days that followed, I stopped asking Nathaniel to do anything for me I didn’t even call his
name anymore.
In the past, he used to complain that I’d summon him for the smallest things, even making him
hand–feed me fruit from a tray that was already within reach.
Now that I no longer bothered him, though, he seemed… unhappy.
When I prepared to leave the house without calling for him, he finally couldn’t take it anymore.
He gripped the handles of my wheelchair, his eyes burning like molten rock. “Two more weeks.”
“Fine.” I didn’t hesitate in the slightest.
He visibly relaxed, then bent down to lift me into the car.
His familiar scent enveloped me.
Every time he had rescued me in the past, he’d carried me just like this, wrapping me in that same comforting smell.
I used to lean into him, greedy for that warmth.
But now, that scent only reminded me of my own stupidity–of the terror and despair in that pitch–black room, of my shattered limbs, of my ruined hands that would never heal again…
My body trembled uncontrollably, and I turned my face away, wanting to put as much distance between us as possible.
Sensing my reaction, Nathaniel felt an inexplicable emotion surge within him.
Of course Emily still couldn’t let him go.
She was just like before–shaking with nervousness whenever they touched.
The corner of his mouth lifted in an imperceptible smirk.
“Where do you want to go today?
“The bank. You want me to apologize to her, don’t you? I’ll need a decent gift for that.”
His reflection in the rearview mirror brightened slightly, pleased by my compliance.
I stared out the window, refusing to spare him another glance.
Chanterg
59.02
C
