Delayed by Nathan Kingsly (the false prince TXT) 📗

On one of the rare nights that mom and Mia aren’t there to visit, Emma slumps in the chair; she’s fallen asleep mid-conversation. She told me she hasn't been sleeping well, and it doesn’t surprise me. After watching someone die, it takes its toll. Even before, I'd experienced night terrors, so I know what it is to be trapped in one, but it is something else to watch someone else go through it.

When she screamed, it woke me from a drug-induced sleep. Her hands thrash, seeming to need to brush something from her skin. Calling out to her gets her eyes to snap open, but her eyes are unseeing. It takes several anxious seconds of calling her name for her to focus.

"You alright?" I ask as she catches her breath.

She nods, wiping sweat coating her brow.

Peeling back the blankets, I hold out my arm. "Get in." After she climbs in, I get her tucked into my side, and it's only a few seconds for her to fall asleep. From then we sleep like this every night while I'm in the hospital.

After another week, I'm finally allowed to go home as long as I promise to follow up with my primary physician. Since I hadn’t thought to get one since moving back, the surgeon set me up with one in my area before she would allow me to leave.

Once I'm home, I reach my limit for visitation. The urge to roam around my own space, alone for a while, has me pushing my mom and sister out the door as soon as they bring me home.

Though being alone is what I wanted, as I walked around my house, sitting on my furniture, drinking my water, wishing it's coffee, it only takes a few hours before I realize solitude is no longer an option for me. I wanted my life to start.

Pulling out my cell from my back pocket, it's as if she knows too, I click accept, and her voice fills the otherwise quiet room.

“Can I come over?”

“Can you move in?”

“Oka ...! Wait, what?”

“Move in with me,  Emma Christine Baker. We can figure out the rest as we go.”

“Are you serious?”

“As serious as a bullet through the lungs.”

“It’s too early to make jokes.”

“Is it?” I question.

She snorts. “Who made you lord and executive joke timeline maker?”

“I’m the one out of the two of us that's been shot. I’m pretty sure that qualifies me in this case.”

I can feel her pouting the whole two blocks over the phone. “Look,” I start. “It can’t be much of a surprise to you, can it?”

“That you make horribly timed jokes?”

I laugh, only cough for a few seconds, and I note the progress. “That I don’t want to live another day where you are not within arm’s reach.”

She is silent for so long that I’m sure she will turn down my offer, but when she whispers out her reply, my chest swells. “Yes.”

“I love you.” As soon as the words are out, I realize we haven’t said them out loud. But even if she’s not there yet with her feelings for me, I can’t turn back from this moment; or how I feel for this woman, and even if she never gets to where I am, I will never regret saying them.

“I’ll see you in fifteen minutes.”

“Hello?” I pull the phone from my ear and see that she’d hung up.

I admit in that fifteen minutes I’d paced around my house enough that I am out of breath when I open the door.

“Liam, are you alright?” She comes in and touches around the brace I still have to wear from the surgery. “Are you in pain?”

She looks up, her face pensive, but as I shake my head, her features start to relax. She straightens, “I love you too.”

“You made me wait fifteen minutes for an I love you too?”

She shrugs. “It’s not something I wanted to say over the phone for the first time.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

She shakes her head. “Not when I’m only two ...” Gripping the back of her head, I kiss her so hard that we’re both breathless when finished with her.

“I love you so damn much, now get out.”

Her eyes grow wide. “What?”

“I want you moved in by the end of the day. You have four brothers; get them to do the heavy lifting.”

Her smile is bright, and she gets on her tiptoes. This kiss is sweet, and quick before I watch her click the door shut behind her.

Another few weeks go by, my brace finally comes off, and I forgot my rib cage could expand this much as I breathe.

My family decides to throw a party, inviting Emma’s family over, since they would be family soon as far as I was determined.

I’d met her brothers weeks ago when they brought her stuff around. It took longer than a day, but that first night she was in my arms as we slept in the same bed again.

Recovery has been slow, I’d lost my job placement, but with my savings I had another few weeks before I have to worry. I know in this case, it's more important to heal, and, with Emma here, I didn’t feel the urge to rush it. There would be other jobs, and I hadn’t given up on school. I’m ahead of schedule because there's nothing else to do.

The furniture on my back patio came when she did, bright peacock colors, but comfortable, not that I would admit it.

"You look at her like she's yours." Mom’s voice comes close over my shoulder, as she squeezes both of them before coming around me to take the seat next to mine.

"That's because she is."

"Didn't I teach you that no person can be a possession."

"She's mine, mom." I give her a quick side glance before watching Emma again. "The same way I'm hers. It's not about possession; she’s not a thing to possess. It’s about ownership."

"Have you recently read the definition for ownership, possessing is in the--"

"You