Catalina practically fell onto her hospital bed. The impact sent a blinding flash of pain through her broken ribs, but she did not care. She yanked the IV pole to the side and grabbed the blanket, pulling it up to her chin.
Her entire body was shaking. Her teeth chattered as if she had been thrown into freezing water.
Out in the hallway, the heavy, rhythmic thud of rubber wheelchair tires rolling over the carpet grew louder. The sound stopped right outside her door.
The metal handle clicked and turned.
Catalina squeezed her eyes shut. She forced her breathing to slow down, mimicking the rhythm of sleep.
Broderick pushed his wheelchair into the room. The motor hummed quietly. He stopped right beside her bed. Catalina could feel his presence. She could smell his expensive cologne. It was the same cologne she had bought him for his birthday. The scent now made her want to vomit.
Under the blanket, Catalina dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands until the skin nearly broke. She needed the physical pain to ground her.
Broderick reached out. His warm fingers brushed against the back of her hand resting on the mattress.
The moment his skin touched hers, a violent, somatic revulsion ripped through her. Her stomach lurched. She yanked her hand away, twisting her face into a grimace of pain as if the movement had pulled at her injured ribs.
Broderick's hand froze in mid-air. A flash of annoyance crossed his face, quickly replaced by a mask of deep concern.
Catalina fluttered her eyes open. She looked at him, forcing her eyes to appear unfocused and weak.
"How are you feeling, my love?" Broderick asked. His voice was dripping with a sickening sweetness.
Catalina looked at his handsome face. She saw the mouth that had just been kissing Jami. She swallowed the acid rising in her throat.
"Everything hurts," she whispered, her voice genuinely raspy. "Please do not touch me. It hurts too much."
Broderick let out a heavy, dramatic sigh. He looked down at his useless legs. "If only I could stand up. If only I could have protected you."
The hypocrisy of his words felt like a physical blow to her head. She wanted to scream. She wanted to grab the water pitcher and smash it across his face.
Broderick leaned forward in his wheelchair, aiming his lips at her forehead for a comforting kiss.
Catalina turned her head sharply, reaching for the plastic water cup on the nightstand. His lips brushed against the empty air.
Broderick sat back. His jaw tightened. His hands gripped the armrests of his wheelchair, his knuckles turning pale. He hated being rejected.
A shadow moved across the glass window of the hospital door. Catalina caught the movement out of the corner of her eye. Jami was standing in the hallway, peering through the glass with a smug, territorial glare.
Broderick followed Catalina's gaze. He cleared his throat loudly, shifting his weight in the chair.
"I am going to go find the doctor," Broderick said, his tone suddenly clipped. "I will make them increase your pain medication."
"Thank you, darling," Catalina said.
Broderick turned the wheelchair around and rolled out of the room. The moment his back was to her, the loving husband act vanished.
The door clicked shut.
Catalina dropped the water cup. She grabbed a sterile alcohol wipe from the bedside table. She ripped the packet open and scrubbed the back of her hand where his fingers had touched her. She scrubbed until the skin was raw and burning red.
She threw the wipe into the trash can. She stared at the ceiling. The tears were gone. Her heart was no longer breaking. It was turning into solid ice. She was going to destroy them. She was going to take everything they valued and burn it to the ground.
