The Dividing Line (Book 1)

06 Ξ Healing (BWWM)

DEATH'S DOOR

"When I found you, you were in pretty bad shape. I was terrified that you might not make it. It was a miracle to see you recovering after a few days because you lost a ridiculous amount of blood. At first, it was touch and go, it seems you have a pretty strong immune system." Her voice faltered as she summed up his care and progress.

The woman stood up and walked over to the small kitchen as he steadied himself. Sharp pangs rushed all the way down to the bone in his right shoulder and right thigh preventing him from moving too much.

As he kept his eyes on her, Cole noticed she was at the stove opening a pot to place what appeared to be some food in a bowl. After returning to the living room, she gathered blankets and pillows to position behind him doing her best to prop him up. Then she helped him find a comfortable position in which to recline.

Once he was seated to meet her approval, the woman returned to the stove to bring what she had been preparing. As she sat down next to him and placed the bowl on her lap, his eyes caught sight of the steam wafting up from the bowl. The food inside looked to him like beef, and vegetable stew. There were also a few rolls resting on the plate right next to it.

He had spent the last five years eating what was supposed to be food. What he had eaten in prison never looked or smelled like real food, but he ate it to survive. When released to his family home, the food his uncle's ex prepared wasn't much better and he had yet to get back into the groove of cooking for himself.

As he watched her plate the food, all the yummy aromas hit him at once. He felt as if he had been gifted a gourmet meal even before he got the chance to savor the first taste of it.

"I know you probably don't want me to serve you, but I can't untie your right arm just yet. It's probably best that you take it easy for now." She explained as she arranged the food for him.

"I made some homemade stew and yeast rolls." The tiny hand dipped a piece of bread in the stew and placed it in front of his mouth.

Cole looked down at the food and back up to her. Why is she so kind to me? He considered. It was still a lot to comprehend everything after an entire lifetime of being told they weren't to be trusted and they were the enemy.

At that moment, she was his arms and those arms were trying to feed him. Though the idea of her feeding him was appealing, he still felt that it was altogether wrong.

His body craved to accept, but his head said no. He closed his eyes reminding himself that even something like his presence in her home was unacceptable. Willing himself to block out the sight of the food, Cole felt as if a sickness weighed on him as the aroma worked its power further breaking down his resolve. The entirety of the situation was against every principle of his life. But considering the circumstances, he reasoned it was best to put away his own personal hang ups and focus on survival.

Oh God, this food smells so good. His brain insisted on pointing out the truth.

Not only had his thoughts chosen to rebel against his decision to fight his hunger, Cole's nose was particularly weakened by the torture of such yummy looking food in such a close proximity to him. In the end, no matter how desperately he fought to resist, his body was starving. The last leg of his defense was over powered the instant his stomach let out a low deep growl.

His own body had officially betrayed him.

During his personal battle, his host patiently awaited her guest's acceptance of the nourishment that was offered. Undone by hunger, the injured man slowly leaned forward with his eyes still closed.