"Are you kidding me?" I groan, shaking my head. They’re long overdue for a manicure anyway, but still, that hurt like a bitch.
I try again and adjust the piece of wood. Grabbing the ax, I lift it over my head, putting all of my strength and body weight into it, and then the sharp blade crashes down and slices the log in two. I drop the ax, and my mouth falls open in shock. Soon, I’m jumping up and down with victory, then laugh my ass off. If my mother could see me doing this, she’d probably faint with shock, then ask me if I’ve lost my damn mind.
I repeat the steps, doing precisely as I did before until I have an entire wheelbarrow full of logs. As I'm rolling it toward the patio door, Bruno barks, and my internal alarm goes off. Immediately, I turn around, searching the surrounding areas and see him chasing after a rabbit. Placing my hand over my heart, I try to calm myself, then continue forward.
"Bruno!" I shout. That dog needs a Xanax.
I make it to the patio door, then slide it open. I carry each piece inside one by one, and neatly stack it next to the fireplace. My arms and body are so sore, and I don't think I've ever done this much physical work in my entire life. Knowing Bruno needs a bath, I go to the kitchen and grab the Dawn dish soap. If it's good enough for the ducks during oil spills, it’ll be good enough for stinky dogs. I go back outside and put the wheelbarrow up and wrangle Bruno to the back patio, then grab the water hose.
He jumps all over me, leaving muddy paw prints on my clothes, and scratches me with his nails. Bruno nearly knocks me over when he gets excited like this. I try to use my best Eli manly voice and tell him to heel, but he doesn't listen, so I resort to begging him instead of yelling. Eventually, he sits, and I run water over him and soap him up real good. Once he's clean, he tries to run off, but I grab him by his collar, and he shakes himself all over me.
"You're a little shit sometimes, Bruno," I tell him, but I'm laughing about it because he's so happy. "And now I need a shower too."
I open the door, and he runs inside, hyper as can be. He chases Chanel around the living room until she's had enough and runs upstairs. Water is all over the floor as he continues shaking and air-drying. With an annoyed groan, I clean up the mess, then try to towel dry him off. I'm filthy, and my back is already aching. Tonight, I'll try to make myself dinner that doesn't include a microwave while downing a bottle of wine. I'm going to need all the luck in the world to actually make something edible.
Eli’s been in the hospital for a week, and I still haven’t spoken to him. I think he’d be proud of how I've taken care of myself for seven days. Even I'm kinda shocked, considering I couldn't boil water before arriving here. I’ve chopped wood, learned to open wine with a corkscrew, and even baked homemade lasagna. Next up is learning how to change my oil and build a house with my bare hands. I laugh at the thought, but honestly, Eli is to thank for this. If he hadn't made fun of me and challenged me to do things on my own, I probably would've eaten TV dinners and ramen for a month.
Today, I slept in because I've stayed up late doing home improvement tasks after my homework assignments, trying to keep my mind busy. I hung photos that have been in a closet for years. I cleaned the cabin, did more laundry, rearranged the living room furniture, and even dusted the top of the kitchen cabinets. At some point, I won't have anything else to do but worry and waste away.
Calling the hospital is one of my everyday habits now. I'm transferred to the nurses’ station, who then tells me Eli was released nearly two hours ago and left in a cab. I wish I’d known so I could’ve at least picked him up instead. My heart races in a semi-panic because the cabin is only thirty minutes away, and he’s not here. Did he not plan to come back here? Is he mad? Does he blame me for what happened? I hate not knowing what he's thinking and hate even more that I couldn’t speak to him.
While I nervously wait, I make my second espresso of the day. Another hour passes, and there’s still no Eli. I know he doesn't have his phone and probably doesn’t remember my number, so I text Ryan and see if he's heard from him. I don't get a response, which only annoys me even more.
I’m nervous as hell and filled with worry. He wouldn’t go home without seeing me or taking Bruno, would he? Did he go to his mom’s? I'm literally driving myself crazy not being able to talk to him.
My stomach growls, reminding me I skipped dinner. I pull out the macaroni I made last night and reheat it, noticing Bruno is on my heels. I feed him a few noodles and tell him to keep it our little secret.
After I eat, I sit on the couch and turn on the news, knowing it's not what I need but still wanting to know what's going on in the city. It's been almost a week since I turned it on. Before I lose myself in the scene unfolding at the hospital where my brother works, the front door opens. Bruno lets out a roar of a bark, and I jump up, my eyes wide as I spin around to see what’s going on.
Eli's eyes meet mine; his hair is a shaggy mess and his arm is in a sling, but he's smiling when he sees me. My hands cover my mouth in shock as my eyes water. I rush to him, and he immediately wraps his good arm around me and presses a soft kiss against my lips. Uncontrollable tears stream down my face, and when he puts space between us, he rubs the pad of his thumb over my cheeks and wipes them away.
"I didn't think you'd come back," I whisper, swallowing down the emotions that have been bubbling inside me for a week.
He searches my face and shakes his head as he tucks loose strands behind my ear. "Why wouldn't I come back, Cami? You're all I've been thinking about. I’ve been going insane without you."
His words cause goose bumps to trail up my arms, and my cheeks heat. "When I called this afternoon, the nurse said you were discharged hours ago, and I thought you didn’t want to be here anymore…" My insecure thoughts linger, and a small smile plays on his lips.
"I waited over an hour for a cab to pick me up. Then he drove me to Roxbury to drop off my prescriptions, then after another hour of waiting for them to be filled, I remembered I didn't have my wallet. After figuring out that mess, he got lost on his way here, but I didn’t realize it at first, or it wouldn't have taken so long.” He blows out a breath and shakes his head. “It's been a weird fucking day."
I feel so bad for him and wish I’d been able to help. "How did you pay for it all?" I ask.
"I gave him a handie," he jokes, and I roll my eyes. "The pharmacy is gonna charge it to the hospital, and they’ll add it to my bill. The cab driver is gonna mail an invoice."
“I was so worried,” I tell him. “They couldn’t tell me anything about you except that you were alive, and every time I tried to call, it took forever to get through, and then you’d be sleeping. I can’t believe you’re here right now.” Happy tears stream down my face, and I want nothing more than to hold him. I carefully wrap my arms around his neck. "I've missed you so much."
"Those words are like music to my ears, baby.” He tightens his arm around me. “I've missed you too. So fucking much.” He pulls back slightly until our gaze meets. “You're the only thing that kept me sane in there," he admits.