Retribution

Chapter 14 - Therapy, Truths, and Turmoil

I woke the next morning feeling like I'd been hit by a bus. My left cheek and eye were swollen to the extent I felt as if my face was giving birth to a beach ball. Every part of me ached. Dull, hindering pain followed any minute movement which made sleep almost impossible and laying still in bed incredibly irritating.

After the nurse came to check my vitals, I glanced over at Jake who was sat in a huge reclining leather chair to my right. "This really isn't necessary, you know. I've dealt with much worse with no treatment."

He turned his attention from the cheesy daytime chat show on TV and smiled at me. "Well," he said, leaning forwards and taking my hand in his. "Now you don't need to suffer in silence, do you?"

Tears welled up instantly leaving me feeling angry, happy, and overwhelmed. Why did I keep crying? Was being happy really that big of a deal?

I had spoken to Mum on the phone, insisting I was perfectly fine; it wasn't as bad as the hospital was making out. She didn't need to worry or see the lighter side of the horrors I'd lived through. It would only torment her further.

"Will you let me pay you back?" I said, quickly doing maths in my head for how much I could give him a month. He'd insisted on paying for private care, something I hadn't realised until I saw the luxury of the room I was staying in.

He snorted. "Don't be ridiculous. I didn't bring you here to then insist you pay me back. I brought you here because I wanted you to have the best care possible."

"But you're not insisting," I said, cracking a smile. "I'm offering. I want to pay you back. Please."

Brushing a kiss over the back of my hand, he grinned. "Unfortunately, it's an offer I'm going to have to politely decline."

I sighed in frustration. "Jake, please—"

"No," he said, his tone of voice suddenly became low and firm. The authority behind it told me not to push my luck. "Look, I understand your desperate need to do this whole independent thing. In fact, I really admire you for it, but that doesn't change anything. The fact here is I can provide things for you with what is essentially pocket change to me." He swept a stray hair off my cheek, his eyes softening in a way which melted my core. "I'm not boasting—I'm pointing out that I can afford to give you something you wouldn't have normally had. Surely you can't deny a man wanting to give such a simple thing?"

The way he pouted his lips after he stopped speaking made me giggle. "I don't have the energy to argue," I said, a fresh wave of exhaustion rising inside me. "You can have your way for now."

He grinned and sent me to sleep with a perfect kiss.

***

It was now Wednesday, and I was feeling a little better. The periods between my sleeps had now lengthened to a couple of hours. I felt so weak and pathetic. Harvey was still with Mum, but because of how I looked, I had made it clear it was best for them both to stay away. Monday afternoon I'd endured a short operation in which I'd been transformed into a lesser version of The Terminator. For my bones to heal correctly, I'd had a metal plate and four screws put in my cheek. The grim part was they'd done this by making a small incision on the inside of my mouth. A row of dissolvable stitches now scratched away at my gums. To make it worse, I had to rinse my mouth with saltwater every few hours and after every meal.

The real cherry on the cake was not only being constantly freezing from the endless supply of ice compresses, but I wasn't allowed to sleep laying down—only sat up. I understood why, but that didn't make it any easier to tolerate. Along with being signed off work for three weeks, I was looking at a long, patience-testing road ahead.