HARPER
Five days later, I was back home, though Dominic had wanted me to stay longer at the hospital, insisting it was too soon.
The doctor had to reassure him multiple times that I was fine and strong enough to leave. I doubted he believed a word of it, though, because here he was now, hovering over me like I was some fragile vase that might shatter at any moment.
Oddly enough, I couldn't even be mad about it. Watching him fuss over me was almost funny.
"How does this even work?" he grunted, squinting at the kitchen counter cluttered with orange bottles and white boxes of medications.
He narrowed his eyes at one of the discharge papers spread out in front of him. Then he folded it, unfolded it, smoothed it flat again—like that would somehow help it make more sense.
A sigh of frustration escaped him just as his phone buzzed for the third time in ten minutes. He pulled it from the pocket of his joggers, glanced at the screen, then hurled it toward the couch without a word.
