“A doctor will be in shortly to examine you,” the nurse said. “It looks like you’ve broken a toe or two. He’ll want x-rays to confirm. In the meanwhile, I can give you something for the pain.”
“Advil,” I said.
“Are you sure you don’t want something stronger?”
“No, just your strongest Advil, please.”
She smiled. “My strongest Advil is called Percocet, honey, but you’re the boss.”
I took the little pills and the glass of water, not looking at Sawyer.
“I try to stay away from anything that alters my mental state,” I said in a quiet voice when the nurse had gone.
“You don’t have to explain,” Sawyer said.
“I feel like I do,” I said. I forced my eyes to find his. “I hate how you learned about my past. I’m sorry it came out like that—at the worst time and place for you.”
“It’s not what’s going to hurt my chances with Olivia.”
“I would never, ever bring anything bad near her.” Tears stung my eyes again. “I promise you that. I never would.”
“I know you wouldn’t,” he said. “I freaked out about your record because of what happened to my mom. And Molly, too. And because I had my own ideas about what justice means. But what I believe has been turned up on its ass, and the only thing that matters right now is you.”
I sniffed and wiped my eyes. “It’s a good feeling.”
“What’s that?”
“Being trusted.”
Sawyer took my hand and pressed it to his lips just as a young doctor with a bald head and warm smile stepped into the space and examined my foot.
“Looks like a few breaks, judging by the swelling and bruising,” he said. “Let’s get you to x-ray and see what’s what.”
They wheeled me to the radiology department where it was determined I had hairline fractures of the fourth and fifth middle phalanges. I breathed a sigh of relief. As far as breaks went, I could do worse than hairlines.
Back in the ER space the doctor was all smiles. “You’ll live to dance another day,”
“Are you sure?”
“If you rest well, you should be ready to roll in six weeks.”
“Six weeks,” I said. “What about work? I have to stand for my job.”
The doc wrinkled his lips. “Better if you didn’t. We’ll get you a walking boot but the more you can stay off it, the faster it’ll heal. A nurse will be in soon to wrap you up, and give aftercare instructions.”
He went out, but no nurse made an appearance. I was obviously a low priority in an ER filled with more serious injuries and illnesses. I shivered in the cold, sterile air, and sharp pain shot up my foot at the movement, making me wince.
“Will you hand me my sweater?” I asked.
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Sawyer said, reaching at his feet. He came up with the old, ratty thing with holes at the cuffs. “This is the ugliest sweater I have ever seen in my life.”
I giggled then winced again. “Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”
Sawyer tucked the sweater around my shoulders. My eyes closed and wanted to stay closed. The exhaustion of the dance performance and the pain were dragging me down.
Sawyer brushed a lock of hair from my forehead. “You should try to get some sleep, if you can. We might be here awhile.”
“What about you? You should go. It’s so late and you have studying to do…”