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That explains the strong stench of ammonia…

“Why?” I tried to sit up again and winced in pain, sucking in a sharp breath. That caused Eli to fly to his feet, sending the chair he was sitting in slamming into the wall behind him.

“What hurts? Are you okay? Well obviously, you’re not. Should I get a nurse? What hurts?”

Taking a deep breath, I whispered in a hoarse voice, “Why are you here?”

“We were on the phone. You said you were about to pass out and the next thing I know there was a loud noise and the sound of shattering glass. I was worried so I came over. When you didn’t answer I—well,” he paused as he looked away, dragging his hand across the back of his neck. “Well, let’s just say I owe you a new door.”

My mouth fell open. “You broke down my door?”

He slowly nodded. “Yes. I banged on your door, and you didn’t answer.” As an afterthought Eli added, almost defiantly, despite the thick undercurrent of fear chipping away at his voice, “And I’m glad I did too because when you passed out, your arm hit your coffee table. You broke it and sprained your wrist.”

To say I was embarrassed was an understatement. “God I’m so—,” I hedged, unable to find the words, so I stopped searching for them. The awkward silence between us was palpable. I was the first to break it when I noticed the sling that held Eli’s hand close to his side. “You broke your hand breaking down my door?”

He looked down at his arm and shook his head, his lip twitching with a small smile. “No. That wasn’t hard to do at all. Albeit, I shouldn’t have done it because…” he gestures to the sling. “I had surgery almost four weeks ago.”

I recalled our first conversation. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You didn’t break my hand when I was a kid.”

I turned away from Eli to compose myself. Seeing him again was agonizing. I wanted nothing more than to hold and to be held by him, but I knew that ship had sailed. We hadn’t spoken for three months.

Eli pierced the silence, “Delaney, I—,”

“Knock, knock,” a chipper and familiar voice called out as the door opened. My OB/GYN stood next to the bed, interrupting our conversation. “Delaney, my deepest apologies. I should have realized that with your biological make up, the—” he stopped, becoming aware that Eli still remained in the room. “Ahh. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can come back later?”

Eli glanced at me and back at the doctor, shaking his head. “No, I’ll leave.”

“Don’t go!” I blurted out. “Just… finish what you were going to say, doctor.”

The doctor hummed softly and continued. “Mmm, well, with your condition, I should have realized the side effects from stopping the hormone boosters would have been more extreme for you.”

From the corner of my eye, I watched Eli’s eyebrow arch in question. I ignored it as I conversed with the doctor. “I’m a medical anomaly,” I sarcastically quipped.

“No, there are plenty of omegas with your condition. Just none with your exact levels. Now that you’re awake, we’re going to do some testing, so we’ll keep you here until the labs are complete and we receive the results. So please, rest. And as for you”—he scowled over at Eli—“you’re lucky the orthopedic hand surgeon is a close friend of mine who owes me a huge favor. He’ll be here shortly to reset your hand. Refrain from breaking down anything else. Got it?” He left the room, muttering under his breath.

I glared at Eli. “You broke your hand again? After just having had surgery?”

“Technically… yes,” he admitted.

My humiliation grew and I snapped out, “Are you stupid? Why would you risk injuring yourself to break down my door when you could have called the leasing office?”

Without missing a beat Eli simply stated, “Because I love you.”

Chapter Seventeen

Being in the hospital made me extremely agitated. I just wanted to go home.

Where it was safe.

Which I whisper-hissed to Tristin when he called to check on me the next day.

“I gotta admit, I was shocked that I was the first person he called. Maybe—,”

“Don’t finish that sentence. I swear to god if you finish that sentence I’m going to—” I cut across him, my whispering heated.

“—he’s not that bad, babe,” Tristin finished anyway, despite my threat.