Read Cherish (Covet #1.5) for Free Online Page B

matter.
    So when it was time for my coworkers to throw me a work baby shower, they pulled out all the stops.
    I was on the last week of my maternity leave when Gabriel died. I couldn’t go back there, knew all I’d be able to think about every time I walked into the conference room for a meeting would be the yellow balloons and the giant yellow sheet cake we moved to the break room after the shower and that people were still eating two days later.
    “I don’t know why,” Daniel says, “or maybe I just can’t remember, but something about you doesn’t bring to mind temporary work. You seem like someone who’s very committed to what they’re doing.”
    “It’s okay for now.” I don’t tell him that I work temporary jobs because my life feels temporary and I haven’t figured out how to get it back onto a permanent track.
    Before I leave that night I tell Daniel to get some rest. “You’ve got a big day ahead of you tomorrow.”
    He promises he will. I think about giving him a hug, but I don’t.
    Twelve days after Daniel arrived at KU Med he is transferred to a rehab hospital where the doctor said the real work of surviving a gunshot wound to the head will begin.
    I go with him.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
    JESSIE
    Daniel’s first few days in rehab pass in a blur of pain and frustration. Sweat soaks his T-shirt by the end of his first physical-therapy session as he begins the grueling process of regaining his balance and strength. It’s hard for me to watch him struggling, but the progress he makes from now until six months postinjury will be the most significant.
    He insists I don’t need to spend the night the way I did at the first hospital, so I sleep at home but return to the hospital every morning around eight. Today when I arrive, Daniel looks much better than he did when I left him last night.
    “You must have gotten a good night’s sleep. You look like a new man.”
    “I passed out the minute you left. I guess I was pretty tired. How about you?”
    I set down my coffee and purse on the small table in the corner of the room. “Me? I slept fine. It’s strange, though. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to sleep at my apartment. It’s way too quiet there.”
    “You live in an apartment? Did I know that?”
    “I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned it. I moved there after I sold the house.”
    “You sold our house?” His voice sounds incredulous.
    “Yes.” I look away, busying myself with opening my planner and scanning Daniel’s schedule for the day.
    Daniel and I used to live in a two-story house in a nice suburb. It was our first home, and we bought it together, and we loved it. Daniel spent lots of time working in the yard, and I decorated each room, painting over the boring builder-grade white with a color palette that ranged from light gray to dusky blue. When we divorced, Daniel insisted that the house go to me, and he didn’t want anything extra in the way of compensation, either. His lawyer was furious while mine was thrilled.
    But our son died in that house, so I sold it.
    “Are you upset with me?” I ask.
    “No.”
    “You’re not mad that I didn’t give you any of the money? You can have half of it. It’s just sitting in a savings account.”
    “I don’t want the money, Jess. The house was yours. The money you got for selling it is also yours.”
    “I’m using some of it to pay my expenses, since I’m not taking any temp jobs right now.” I feel less guilty using the money if it allows me to contribute to Daniel’s recovery.
    “Jess, it’s fine,” he says, rubbing his temples. “Really.”
    “Okay.”
    “Can you help me get in the shower?”
    “Sure.”
    Daniel is not allowed to get in and out of the shower by himself because the risk of his falling is still too high. I started helping him shortly before he was transferred here because between his nurses, his mom, and me, I was the obvious choice. I don’t actually wash him, although I would if he asked. I help him