She reached out and grabbed his arm. “Yes. It does.” This time she gripped his eyes in hers. “It matters to me.”

Once more she found turbulence in the flick of his eyes, the set of his mouth. He fidgeted, clearly having a disagreement within himself. He shook his head at her, and fear flickered in her belly. Had she lost him forever without an explanation ? His gaze landed on her hand on his arm, and he stilled and softened. She withdrew her hand, worried she’d overstepped her bounds, but his gaze lingered for a moment where her hand had been, and she considered for a moment replacing it. But the moment was gone.

“Do you remember being carried to the wheelchair?” His voice was low and gravelly. She was forced to step closer so she could hear him, and she was instantly within some warm protective force of his. It was not unpleasant. “When you tried to check in?”

She remembered being lifted and feeling secure, but the pain and her fear had been her main focus. She nodded, unable to stop looking at him.

“That was me.” He sighed and looked away at something she could not see, as if asking permission to continue talking to her. “You told me your fiancé was parking the car.” He met her eyes again and continued.

“My colleague Amy was assigned to you, but...I couldn’t stop checking on you. I heard the asshole break up with you right there in the ER as I was coming to check on you. I heard you scream, and I started to come in and see what had happened, when I saw you throw your engagement ring at him. When he emerged from your room clutching his eye, I was proud of you—which was very odd, because I didn’t even know you. But you were so strong, even in this horrible moment. It was incredible.”