Page 131 of Contempt

“Lucia?”

She looked up to find the nurse standing in the doorway of the waiting room with a clipboard in her hands.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Lucia said.

“He’s ready whenever you are.”

Now or never.

Jordyn smiled, and leaned in to kiss Lucia on her forehead. “Say hello for me and your dad. I heard his sister and brother are coming in today, too, so try not to get him too worked up while you’re in there, okay?”

Lucia laughed.

Right.

She was the one who would work Ren up.

It was always the other way around, right?

• • •

“You know, I worked twice as hard all week so that I would be able to sit up on the side of this bed to greet you, Lucia. Don’t make me regret that because you just want to stand in the doorway.”

Lucia smiled, and let out a laugh. Her gaze fell on the man sitting up in the bed, and her heart clenched in the best way. Oh, it hurt, sure, but it felt damn good, too. Like dragging in a deep breath that burned your lungs after holding your air for too long.

It burned.

And it relieved.

Yeah, that’s exactly how it felt.

Renzo grinned at her from the bed, and she just stared. Maybe it was stupid, but she just wanted to look at him. From the moment he woke up, she had been kept away. She didn’t want to, but the team of doctors were adamant this was what would be best for his brain. One step at a time, they kept repeating. His brain needed to process one thing at a time—including people.

The remaining bruises were pretty much gone—all the swelling was nonexistent. He still had a cast on his left arm, and one on his right foot up to his knee. She knew the one on his arm would be coming off within the next couple of weeks, and they would use a sling. The one on his leg … that was going to be another couple of months.

Maybe three.

Who was to say?

“You coming in, or …?” Renzo teased.

She wanted to cry.

His voice was normal.

His words were clear.

His smartass was back.

Those were all things that people had reported to her that he was struggling with over the last week. His words would get jumbled, he’d get confused when people couldn’t understand what he was saying to them, and then he’d react from that. Sometimes angrily, and other times, he’d be emotional.

It was a toss-up.

His brain heard one thing.

His mouth said another.

This meant good things, though.