Redemptive (Combative, #2)(26)

17




Bailey


Nate stayed home for another couple days. When he had to step out, it was only for an hour or so at a time. No longer was there a separation between us, not with the walls of the house, and not emotionally. He was never more than a few feet away unless we were sleeping. That one time in my bed was the closest we’d been. But he always seemed to find a way to be nearby—slight touches, quick glances, small smiles—all of it had my heart and mind racing, my fingers twitching to touch him back, to do something, so he knew that I didn’t mind his touch. Not even a little bit.

“Doctor Polizi’s coming soon,” Nate said, looking up from his phone.

“Okay.” I nodded, trying to move the hair away from my face without using my glove covered hands. I was on all fours, cleaning the oven while he stood behind me, watching me I guess. Cleaning was the only thing I could find to do in the house, and even though he said that I didn’t need to—that he’d prefer me not to—I had to. Not just for my sanity, but because it felt as if I was somehow paying him back. He shook his head when I told him that but agreed to let me anyway. We spoke more, about anything we could think of that didn’t consist of my past or his job. It’s not as if we sat down and said those topics were off limits, but I think we both wanted whatever it was we were experiencing to be separate from that. We wanted to just be two people—friends, maybe—who enjoyed each other’s presence. So we ignored the reasons why I was here in the first place, or at least, we did our best to fake it.

I stuck my bottom lip out and blew out a breath, trying to move the hair from my eyes again. He chuckled lightly and bit down on an apple, keeping it in his mouth as he squatted down next to me. He used both hands to clear the hair away from my eyes, then cupped my face in his hands. “Eyyer?” he mumbled, apple still in his mouth.

My nose scrunched. “What?”

He pulled out the apple with one hand, the other remaining on my cheek. “Better?”

I nodded, ignoring how his touch made me feel.

“Good.” He stood back up and resumed his position, leaning on the counter behind me and watching me clean.

Sticking my head back in the oven, I continued my task. “You don’t have to watch me, you know? I’m sure there’s something you’d rather be doing.”

He chuckled. “I like my view just fine.”

*

“Diabetes?” I asked Doctor Polizi while I looked over at Nate anxiously. “What does that mean?”

Nate sat down next to me on the couch and took my hand. “What does it mean for her? I mean, as far as treatment goes?” he asked.

The doctor went through, in detail, what type of diabetes I had. He said I’d most likely had it my entire life, but it went untreated. And the fact that I’d probably shrugged off the symptoms as hunger didn’t help. He said I’d need to take something called insulin twice a day, and a whole bunch of pills to replace the vitamins I was lacking from being locked up all day with no fresh air or sunlight. He said it was a miracle I’d lasted as long as I had without the proper medication.

“But I feel fine most of the time,” I told him, even though I was looking at Nate.

“Your level of fine may differ from what it really should be. You might think what you’re feeling is normal because it’s constant, Bailey. Hopefully getting you on the right treatment plan will make you feel how you really should be feeling.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I stayed silent.

He pulled out a box from his medicine bag and sat down next to Tiny on the couch opposite us, then proceeded to lay out the content on the coffee table between us. He pointed out what everything was and what it was used for.

Nate sat next to me and typed away on his phone, asking all the questions I didn’t know to ask. All I could really understand was that I had to check my sugar levels and take the insulin stuff twice a day. Four needles. I’d already done a few tests so I knew what it would feel like, but when Doctor Polizi asked me to take a shot of the insulin so he could make sure I did it right, I panicked. I pinched the skin on my stomach with one hand, the other shaking as I brought it closer. I eyed Nate as he chewed his lip, watching me. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes. It’s just different. I mean… doing it myself. I don’t know…”

He exhaled loudly and rubbed his eyes. “Are you afraid of the pain?”

“No. I don’t think so…”

Doctor Polizi spoke up. “Will it help if Nate does it this time? And slowly you can build up to doing it yourself? Just in case he’s not around?”

I released a breath and let myself relax. “Would you?” I asked Nate.

“Of course.”

I stood in front him, lifting my shirt slightly and pinching the skin again. His fingers brushed mine when he took the needle machine from my hand. He glanced up at me before looking at the doctor. “Will it hurt her?” Nate asked, and my chest tightened at his words.

“No more than when we do the blood sugar tests,” Polizi answered.

Nate released a nervous breath as his free hand curled around my leg, gently pulling me closer to him. “You okay, Bailey?”

I nodded and closed my eyes and, as if on their own, my hands reached for the back of his head, my fingers lacing through his hair. Then I let the world fade around me.