Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 103918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
“I tried to undo it,” Lex whispered. His voice broke through the tumultuous emotions I couldn’t make sense of. I was about to ask him what he was talking about when he added, “I knew as soon as I pushed the button that it was a mistake, but I was just…”
When he didn’t continue, I found myself leaning forward. “Just what?” I asked. Ten minutes earlier I’d promised myself I wouldn’t involve myself in the man’s personal life, but I found myself holding my breath in anticipation of what he’d say next.
“Tired,” he said after the longest time. “I had a couple of granola bars in my bag. I thought they’d be enough.”
I remembered the wrappers I’d seen on the floor. So he’d tried to raise his blood sugar to counteract the overdose of insulin he’d taken but the food hadn’t been enough.
“You had orange juice in the fridge,” I reminded him.
“I’d finally started to warm up…”
It took me a moment to understand what he was saying. He hadn’t wanted to leave the comfort of the cocoon of blankets because he’d been too cold?
“Why didn’t you start a fire, Lex?” I asked. “There were logs and kindling in the fireplace and a lighter on top of the mantle.”
Lex dropped his eyes. I saw his cheeks flush with color. When he didn’t answer, I found myself reaching out to tip his chin back up because I knew him looking away had absolutely nothing to do with not being able to see me. He was embarrassed, plain and simple.
Little sparks of electricity once again fired along my arm, but I ignored them and kept my finger where it was so he’d be forced to look at me as he spoke.
“I’m from LA, Gideon.”
Something about the way he said my name had all sorts of weird things happening inside of me.
“They don’t have fireplaces in LA?” I asked teasingly.
But he didn’t respond to my attempt to lighten the mood. “Lex—”
“I couldn’t find the switch, okay?” Lex snapped. He jerked his head away.
“What switch?” I asked stupidly.
Lex shook his head slowly back and forth. “I thought you turned the fireplace on with a switch.”
Understanding dawned and I felt like a complete and utter horse’s ass. “Lex, I’m sorr—”
“For what?” he bit out. “I’m the guy who’s too stupid to know—”
“Don’t do that!” I interjected. I grabbed his chin again and held it firmly. “Don’t call yourself that!” I repeated. I was practically nose to nose with him when I did it.
In the seconds that followed, I became very aware that Lex was looking straight at me for the first time. I knew he couldn’t actually see me, but he wasn’t trying to pull away, and for some reason that felt like progress. Like we’d finally gotten past some unseen line in the sand.
It made no sense.
I had no reason to want to make progress on anything with this virtual stranger. I didn’t want to know his problems or share in his burdens. Fisher Cove was my escape and there was no room in it for the vulnerable man in front of me. Even if I could get past the strange sensations he stirred within me, I wasn’t looking for a friend or confidante. And I wasn’t looking to be that for someone else.
I forced myself to release Lex. “Sorry about that,” I mumbled. I busied myself with looking through his kit.
“Me too,” Lex said.
I wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for, but I didn’t really want to know either. “What is this?” I asked, then realized the stupidity of my question. I reached for Lex’s hand and placed the object in it. He took a second to feel the small piece of plastic that looked like a chunky Band-Aid.
“It’s a patch pump. A disposable one.”
“It’s wireless?” I asked as I took it back from him.
“Yeah, it comes with a controller. It’s got a blood glucose monitor in it too,” Lex said.
“Really? That’s pretty cool,” I said. “I don’t think there was anything around like this when—” I began before I caught myself.
“When what?” Lex asked.
The wave of grief that settled over me was like a cloud threatening to steal every last ounce of oxygen from my lungs.
But I knew from experience that it wouldn’t. It wouldn’t be that kind.
“Gideon?”
The reminder that I wasn’t alone had me shaking my head before I remembered Lex couldn’t see me. “Why aren’t you wearing it?” I asked.
I didn’t look at Lex as I set the patch aside. The man was blind, but he wasn’t stupid. He’d recognize my switching the conversation back to him for what it was.
“The battery for the controller died and with the power out, I couldn’t recharge it. I keep the pens and regular glucose monitor as a backup.”
“Why didn’t you call Harvey about the power? He would have reached out to me.”