Page 217 of Sexting His Assistant

The last message from him sits there.

Don’t wait up. Work ran late. I’ll come tomorrow. Lock the door.

I type before I can talk myself out of it.

Misha, pick up. I’m in the hospital. I’m okay, but I need to know where you are. Your location is off. Call me now.

I stare at the message. Then I send it.

The little delivered mark appears.

Nothing else.

I hate that delivered mark.

“Nina?” Meredith says through the speaker.

“I texted him,” I say.

“Good.”

“I don’t want to call my parents yet.”

“Then don’t until you have enough to tell them.”

“Is that wrong?”

“It is human,” Meredith says. “Wrong can wait until you’ve slept.”

That makes my eyes burn. I blink hard. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. It makes me uncomfortable.”

“Fine. You’re rude.”

“Better,” Meredith says. “Call me if you need clothes, food, or someone to frighten a nurse politely.”

“I think Luka has the frightening covered.”

“I’m sure he does,” Meredith says. “Still, I’m available.”

After we hang up, I sit there with the phone in both hands and stare at Misha’s message thread.

No reply. No typing bubble. No location.

I think about the way he looked when he showed up at my apartment. Jumpy, tired, too alert. The way he checked the window. The way he asked to stay even though his own apartment is nicer than mine in every possible way. The way his phone lit up and he turned it over too quickly. The way he asked if I had resigned from Luka’s company with more urgency than irritation.

He was scared.

Then somebody broke into my apartment. Were they looking for him?

My head starts aching harder. I close my eyes and lean back.

A knock comes at the door. Before I can answer, Luka steps in.

He’s wearing a dark suit, not a tuxedo this time, though somehow he still looks like he has never known what an ordinary morning is supposed to be. His hair is slightly damp, like he has showered at some point, but his face looks tired in a way that shaving cannot fix. There are shadows under his eyes. His left shoulder is held carefully, and I can see the line of a fresh bandage under his shirt collar.

He pauses when he sees me awake with the phone in my hands. “Nina.”