Always Only You by Chloe Liese (z-lib.org).epub

Ren watches her walk out, then gently stands and shuts the door behind her.
I stare at him as he moves, loving the way simple clothes drape beautifully
on his body. Ball cap pulled low. Jeans that are dark and worn, a weathered blue
T-shirt that brings out the ice in his eyes and the copper in his hair. When he sits,
he strokes my cheek with the back of his knuckles.
I clear my throat roughly, then lick my lips. Ren reaches reflexively for the
hospital tray and sweeps up a lip balm. Uncapping it, he swipes it over my
mouth, then pops the cap back on.
“You did that?” I ask. My voice sounds watery.
“Pretty much the only thing I could do was make sure you didn’t wake up
with cracked lips.” His smile is faint. “Frankie. Why didn’t you tell me how bad
you were feeling?”
I search his eyes. “I knew you’d worry. I didn’t want to pull you away from
the game, from the best chance of winning.”
His eyes tighten at the corners. “So, you decided you’d make that choice for
me?”
Shifting in the bed, I try to buy my hip some relief. “I know you, Ren. This
way, you got to play the game, and I got to have the peace of mind that I wasn’t
a roadblock. This is what I talked about when we agreed to give a relationship a
chance. I don’t want to be a point of resentment. I don’t want my health stuff to
prevent you from doing your work and being successful.”
Ren just stares at me. “Frankie, you’re more important than a hockey game.
Unequivocally.”
“Maybe one game. But this happens to me, Ren. I catch shit because my
immune system hates me, and my meds don’t help. Trust me, it won’t be the last
time. Down the line, you’ll be glad that I keep this stuff to myself.”
He shakes his head, blinking rapidly. “I…I’m… Are you serious?”
I frown at him. “Absolutely. Tell me how the hell you would have felt if you
didn’t play that game, and they lost. If you sat next to me in the hospital, useless,
while I slept in a drugged stupor with a perfectly curable issue, and you watched
your team struggle and fail without you. In the back of your head you would
have been wondering if you should have been there, if, with your help, they
would have won, thinking ‘if only Frankie hadn’t gotten sick’—”
“That’s the last thing I’d think.”
I laugh bitterly but it’s complicated by a coughing jag. Ren pours a cup of
water, plops a straw in it and holds it to my mouth. I drink half of it and drop
back on my pillow with a sigh.
His face is taut, his jaw clenched.
“Why are you angry?” I ask, confident I’ve read this emotion correctly.