Page 167 of Obsessed by My Ex's Mafia Uncle

The room tilts suddenly from the nodding, my knees wobbling beneath me.

“Hey.” Robert catches me before I stumble, one arm locking around my waist quickly. “Easy.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re swaying.”

“I’m not…” I start to say but the dizziness surges again.

I shut my eyes briefly.

“Christine.” He studies my face carefully now. “Have you eaten?”

I don’t answer quickly enough and his expression changes instantly.

“Have you?”

I shake my head.

Food started feeling unnecessary after the accident. My body stopped belonging to normal routines.

Robert exhales through his nose like he’s trying very hard not to lose his patience.

“I brought food from the restaurant.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“You’re concussed,” he replies flatly. “You don’t get opinions right now.”

“There he is.” Aisha snorts softly behind us.

I would roll my eyes if I had enough energy. Instead, I let Robert hold me properly when the room sways again.

“Come on,” he coos this time. “Let me get you back to your room.”

I glance once toward Blue.

Then I nod.

The walkback to my ward feels longer than it should.

Every step drags through my body like my bones are filled with wet cement. Robert keeps one arm around me the entire time, steadying me carefully whenever I falter, which is more often than I want to admit.

The pain medication is making everything feel distant, like I’m floating inside my own suffering instead of fully living in it.

When we reach the room, I’m exhausted again.

Robert helps me sit on the bed slowly before stepping away to reach for the takeout bag he left near the drawer, the same place he's been leaving me food for days.

The smell of warm bread and soul wafts around the room almost immediately.

My stomach twists weakly at the reminder that bodies still expect food even after devastation.

“I’m not hungry,” I protest.

“That’s unfortunate,” he replies, opening the container anyway. “Because you’re eating.”

He sits on the chair beside the bed, spoon in hand, waiting.