A jiggle of metal against metal brought me back from my gloomy thoughts.

“Will you do the honors?” Kade held out the keys to our home. His beautiful light greys no longer held the intense sparkle.

“What, so I'm suitable to open the door?” I joked as I took the keys. The elevator doors opened and I stepped out of it, turning right.

Kade was carrying the black sports bag with my stuff he had brought to the hospital while I stayed there. With my left arm out of the commission and my body battered, Kade didn’t allow me to carry anything remotely heavy.

“We'll just have to test and see if you can prove yourself worthy,” Kade humored me.

I shot him a fake glare as an answer. He waited patiently while I fumbled a bit, too accustomed to use both hands when opening the door, but a moment later we were inside.

A pleasant whiff of mild rosemary and spearmint welcomed me home. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, feeling some of the tension leave my shoulders.

Home, finally.

When I heard receding steps, I opened my eyes to observe Kade go down the corridor and turn right to disappear into our bedroom.

Even if I felt lingering anger towards Kade now—his retreating back, clad in a simple white button-up shirt and worn blue jeans, still called out to me. I’d make it up to him, I vowed, once I returned to my old self. Until then, I would appreciate Kade giving me space.

I hung the keys on the metal hook on the wall, placed my shoes next to Kade's, and slid the closet doors shut.

A man with greenish brown eyes, short light blond hair, and high cheek bones looked right back at me in the mirror. The swelling had gone down, but traces of the disappearing bluish and yellow bruises were still visible around my left eye and cheek. My eyes stopped to inspect the narrow band-aid right above my left jaw line, a parting gift from one of the glass shards stuck in my body. I'd probably have a small scar once it healed. The wound stung if I opened my mouth wide or tensed my jaw muscles hard, but otherwise it didn't bother me much. A few lines of stitches graced my scalp and body, too. The emerald-colored sleeve shirt hid the rest of my healing body, including the sling for my fractured arm.

Not a beautiful sight. I was battered and bruised, but alive and kicking—as my sister-in-law had called me when we spoke via Skype yesterday.

I survived a car accident caused by a girl in her late teens who just had to chat on her social media account while driving. Lulled by the empty streets of the late night and distracted with her typing, she ran a red and T-boned me. A shiver ran down my back at the memory of the impact. The deafening sound of metal bending and glass shattering haunted me more often than I liked, sometimes even jolted me out of my naps.

I knew I was lucky. If either of our driving speeds had been higher, if not for the airbags in my car, the consequences would have been much worse; especially because I didn't wear a seatbelt. My heart wept for my beloved car, though. My Imp had to go to the junkyard.

“I unloaded the bag.” Kade re-emerged from the bedroom. “The toiletries are in the bathroom, pills on your nightstand, clothes in the washing machine. I'm gonna make us something to eat. Any preferences?” He walked in the opposite direction of the bedroom, out of my sight again.

“As long as it's not hospital food and has some meat, I'm good with anything.”

I moved to where Kade stood seconds ago, intent to reacquaint myself with our spacious bedroom and its bathroom. But as soon as my eyes zeroed on the huge bed, the ugly thoughts returned.

I could have slept in our comfortable bed sooner, yet I was held captive in the damned hospital bed.

Kade should’ve taken me home earlier.

Why did I listen to him and agree to stay there for so long?

I sighed at the exhaustive train of thought and the bubbling anger, and turned away from the bedroom.

Let it go, Evan. Just forget about it. It’s over.

I passed the door to the second bathroom and couldn't help but smile at our sunlit living and dining areas that opened to my view. I loved how huge we had made it; this space had become my favorite. Sometimes I even drew at the dining table instead of our office room, which was now to the right behind me.

A spacious dining area with an oval dining table and chairs separated me from the floor-to-ceiling windows. Kade was chopping something in the kitchen area further away, his strong back to me. We both knew how to cook, but we also ordered take out once or twice a week.

I moved left. My eyes caressed the extra huge and comfy U-shaped sofa and the home theater system. We loved watching movies in the evenings, therefore we made sure to have comfort and space for our long evenings in front of the screen.

My fingers traced the seam of the plush velvet fabric absentmindedly as I recalled our latest night on this couch. Sunday evening, watching the first two parts of Die Hard. We had started sprawled and relaxed on the sofa, commenting, criticizing, laughing, and brainstorming other tactics for Bruce and his enemies. The second movie, however, was fairly quiet after we snuggled up and Kade kept me deliciously distracted with his hands, lips, tongue, and finally, cock.

A pleasant shiver ran down my back and I shifted, feeling my pants become snugger at the fond memory. I barely got to see the second movie, even during the time when I faced the screen while Kade rocked into me. We ended up sleeping right there, covering our naked bodies with a blanket to hide from the AC.

Smiling, I tore my eyes away from the sofa before my pants became too snug.

The walls of the room were mostly bare, save for a few shelves beneath the flat screen that stored our Blu-ray movies, series, and some photos. I was toying with the idea of painting something on the walls. Kade loved my photorealistic paintings—we had one in the bedroom and one in our office—but I wanted the living space to have a different touch. Maybe something abstract? I wasn't sure yet.

I froze in my tracks when my eyes stopped at the kitchen and caught Kade. When did he stop chopping and start watching me? 

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