Page 59 of Cross Me

She halted in her tracks and gave me a long, appraising look.

“He wants to talk to you,” she said flatly. She didn’t wait for a response.

“I’ll give you two some privacy,” the doctor said before disappearing after her.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself to see him. But the sight that greeted me wasn’t that bad. There were bandages and a few cuts, but Anders was sitting up and alert. His face lit up when I entered the room, but when he tried to lean forward to beckon me in, he winced. His hand went to his torso, his face twisting in pain.

“Are you okay?” I rushed to his side, my eyes checking the monitors for signs of distress.

“I’m fine.” He waved off my concern. “Broken rib or two.”

“That doesn’t sound fine.” Guilt washed over me. Those broken ribs were my fault.

“I’ve had worse. Trust me.”

“That accident. I can’t believe that you’re…”

“Alive?” A smirk carved over his face. “It takes more than bad luck to kill a Stone.”

“Was that what it was?” I asked quietly.

A muscle twitched in his jaw before he finally shook his head. “No. It wasn’t bad luck. I was distracted. This is my fault.”

“No, it isn’t,” I said fiercely. I’d been right. His fight with Alexander, the last few days of tension were to blame. “Whatever was on your mind—”

“You,” he cut me off. “You were on my mind.”

“I know that Alexander showing up made things...” I struggled for the right words, trying to ignore the implications of his. He couldn’t mean that.

“It wasn’t him I was thinking about. It was you,” he repeated. “I know so many things are cocked up right now, and this is the worst timing, but I can’t pretend—”

“Don’t,” I stopped him. “Anders, you’re confused.”

“I may have a concussion,” he said, pausing for a second to ruffle his hair. “Actually, I do have a concussion, but that isn’t the point. I’m thinking clearly, Clara. I have been since the moment I met you and you’re the only thing that’s been on my mind. I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve fallen in love with you.”

My mouth opened, but nothing came out. There was no way to defuse this situation. Someone was going to get hurt. Anders was going to get hurt and I was going to lose a friend.

“I know you’re married,” he said quickly, “and it may seem like it couldn’t work, but—”

“It doesn’t seem,” I interrupted him before this got any worse, “It won’t. You and I are friends. I care about you, but I love Alexander. I am in love with Alexander.”

“You think you love him, but you’re scared of him.” His heart rate monitor jumped up. “He’s not good for you.”

I wanted to tell him he was wrong, but the problem was that in some ways he was right. I did love Alexander, but I didn’t know if he was good for me anymore. All I could do was admit the truth. “He has always scared me,” I said in a quiet voice. Anders went rigid and I went on before he got the wrong idea, “Loving him has always scared me. He’s from a different world than we are. It’s like loving the sun—dangerous, unknown—but impossible to deny.”

“And likely to burn you,” he muttered.

“I belong with him,” I said. It was a simple fact. I wasn’t certain of much anymore, but that was still true.

“He acts like you belong to him.” Anders usually bright eyes darkened with hatred.

“And he belongs to me,” I said wearily. “I need you to accept this. I am—and will always be—Alexander’s.”

“So you’ll stay with him and let him push you around?” he asked harshly.

“I’ll stay but you overestimate him. I make my own choices. I hope you can understand that.”

Anders didn’t say anything and after a few more moments of awkward silence I left him to his thoughts, wondering how we’d ever get past this.