“Hey, you.” Bridgette lightly hit her arm and rested her hand on Deborah’s. “Why your hands are so cold.” She rubbed them.
She pulled away and sniffed. “I was so scared you were going to die…” She wiped under her eyes.
“Come here.” Bridgette tugged on Deborah’s T-shirt, and Deborah hid her face in the side of Bridgette’s arm.
Bridgette’s touch on her hair and cheek soothed her, and she glanced up, wincing at the bright-white bandage around Bridgette’s bright hair and the black and blues covering her face. “You must hate me.”
“Hate you? Why would you think such a thing?” Bridgette gave her a small smile, but she flinched and touched her swollen lip with her finger.
“I’m the reason you’re in the hospital,” she said through her tears.
“Why would you think that? You didn’t smack me around.” Wrinkles appeared on her forehead. “I can’t remember what happened.” She pointed at her arm where an IV poked out. “How long have I been out for?”
“Almost forty-eight hours. After I was taken care of, they let me sit in here until you woke up. Your friends and family have been coming in all day long.” She sat up as she thought back to seeing Bridgette’s parents and being questioned by them. When she admitted everything and why Bridgette had been targeted, to say they were less than pleased with her was an understatement, especially Bryan.
“Jesus, Deborah, if I look anything like you do, I don’t even want to see a mirror for a month.”
She let out a watery laugh and fingered her throat where the red handprints had yet to fade. “I’m so, so sorry about what happened to you.” She tugged on a hangnail.
“Why are you apologizing? You weren’t the one who beat me up.” Bridgette tried to sit up.
“No, stay down.” She wrapped her arms around her waist and went to her chair. She couldn’t be close to Bridgette without wanting to kiss her.
“Why are you over there and why haven’t you kissed me since I’ve woken up?” Bridgette turned on her side, facing her with a pout.
“Why would you want me to even touch you? I’m the reason my wife attacked you.”
“So, she’s the one who bashed my head in,” Bridgette said, more to herself. “But she went after you also. Where is she now?”
“She’s dead.” Her lips trembled. “I think your brother shot her or another officer did. She got inside the house through the front door I left unlocked for you. I was upstairs when I heard Rotquel barking as I was getting our bath ready. I noticed the light I left on downstairs went out. Thinking the bulb had burnt out, I went to investigate and Gen was waiting there with a gun. She told me she had you hidden somewhere and, if I didn’t do what she wanted, she’d kill you. I thought…I was so stupid thinking she had time to hide you somewhere.” She released a shaky sigh. “I fought her, actually threw a lamp at her head, and tried to run out of the house, but she caught me and started beating me until the police, your brother, crashed through the door and saved me.”
“All I remember was Rotquel making a lot of noise, and I couldn’t figure out why she was acting so strangely. Before I could get my house keys out, something hit the back of my head. I blacked out and woke up to bright lights and Mrs. Heckel over me.” She looked at her red, scraped palms, and Deborah swallowed uncomfortably.
“It’s a good thing for Rotquel. If not for her insane barking and your nosy neighbor coming home at the right moment, we might have been lying in a cold room with sheets over our faces instead of being in here.” She shivered at the thought.
“Even lying in bed with the worst headache I’ve ever had, it’s great to be alive.” Bridgette gave her a cheery smile and held out her hand.
She ignored Bridgette’s reach and wiped her damp palms on her knees. “I can get the nurse to bring you something for your head, if you want.” She’d begun to stand when Bridgette sat up. “Stop moving around. You’re in too much pain.” She sat back, wanting so much to help Bridgette, to touch her. But if she did, she’d never let her go.
“There, that feels better.” Bridgette panted as she moved a pillow behind her back.
“I have to leave,” she blurted and finally stood. The sooner she did, the better.
Bridgette frowned. “Oh? I guess you still have to talk to the police about what happened. Afterward, come back and we can hang out together. I’ll be here all day and night,” she joked.
“Bridgette.” She nibbled on her nail, stopping when she realized what she did. “I won’t be coming back. I already talked with the police after I was given a clean bill of health. I have to go to Nevada and figure out Gen’s funeral arrangements.”
“Why would you plan her funeral after all her abuse? I hope the dead bitch is rotting in hell.”
She wrapped her arms around her waist and moved to the end of the bed. “She was my wife, and I did love her, even after everything. She had no other family, only me. I have to take care of the house, any debts, and possibly her company. I have to see about my mother’s arrangements also.”
“I’m being selfish, aren’t I?” Bridgette tapped her fingers on the blanket. She wanted to place her own hand on those amazing digits of Bridgette’s that made her feel safe and loved.
“It’s something I don’t want to do, but I have to. I’m dreading going back and dealing with the talk and looks. I’m not sure when I’ll return here, if ever.”
The shock on Bridgette’s face broke her heart. She bit her lip and cleared her throat.
“What does that mean for us? You’re just going to walk out of here and forget what we have?” Bridgette asked in a wounded voice.
She shrugged. “You’ve made my time in Woodberry Creek one I’ll never forget. I can’t promise you anything right now. I need time to figure things out. There’s so much I have to do.”
“Deb, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. No one can force you to do anything ever again. You’re finally free, with no controlling wife. For once in your life, you’re your own woman.”
“You say that, but you want me to do what you think is right. If I’m with you, I can’t be free, as you just said.”
Bridgette exhaled loudly. “You’re twisting my words. I want you to—”
“Did you just hear what you said? It’s what you think is best. Gen used to say that exact same thing to me all the time. It was always what she wanted.”
“I can’t believe you’re comparing me to that psycho—”
“Bridgette!” she said in a hoarse shout. Bridgette went silent and crossed her arms, turning her head away from her.
“I’m not saying it’s over between us, just that we need a break.” She walked around to the side of the bed and placed her palm lightly on Bridgette’s cheek. Bridgette still wouldn’t look at her as she stiffened with hurt. “There’s so much I need to work through, and if I’m with you and ignore my life back in Nevada and everything that has happened, I’ll be in a worse position than I’m already in. I’ve run away too many times and look where it got me. Look where it got you.”