“Stop.”
He released my neck.
For one second I thought it was over.
Then he looked at the dressing beneath my loose shirt.
“You’ve got everyone convinced you’re helpless.”
His index finger pressed directly against the most tender part of the surgical area.
Hard.
I gasped.
“Daniel!”
He pressed again.
Heat spread beneath the gauze.
I felt something wet.
His eyes went to the stain appearing through the dressing.
He didn’t look frightened.
He looked annoyed.
“If Rachel asks, tell her the cancer did it.”
I stared at him.
“The cancer?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No. I don’t.”
Then we heard a car door outside.
Daniel turned his head.
Footsteps crossed the porch.
The front doorknob moved.
His hand left me instantly.
Rachel stepped inside.
“Sorry. I forgot my—”
She stopped.
Her nursing bag was sitting on the small bench near the entryway.
Then she saw me.
