She's wrong.
I toss the phone onto the bed and grab my wheelchair's push rims. The movement is sharp. Angry. My arms burn as I propel myself toward the door.
My room is in the east wing. Hers is in the west.
I didn't choose to see her tonight.
But she's going to see me anyway.
My arms ache. I've been pushing myself too hard in physical therapy. Will warned me about overexertion. About setting back my progress.
I don't care.
The west wing stretches ahead of me. Longer than I remembered. Or maybe it just feels that way because every rotation of my wheels feeds my anger.
Promises, promises.
Who does she think she is?
She's nobody.
Her door appears at the end of the hallway. Closed. A thin strip of light glows underneath.
She's still awake.
Good.
I don't knock. Don't announce myself. Just grab the handle and push.
The door swings open.
And I freeze.
She's standing in the middle of the room with her back to me. The wedding dress pools around her waist, half-unzipped. Her shoulders are bare. Her spine curves down to where white silk bunches at her hips. She's wearing nothing underneath except a thin strip of lace.
My mouth goes dry.
"What the—" She spins around.
Her arms fly up to cover her chest. Too late. I've already seen the swell of her breasts. The soft curve of her stomach. The way her skin glows golden in the lamplight.
"Get out!" She grabs a pillow from the bed and clutches it against her body. "Are you insane? You can't just barge in here!"
I should leave.
I should apologize and wheel backward and close the door and pretend this never happened.
I don't move.
My eyes won't obey me. They trace the line of her collarbone. The hollow of her throat. The way her chest heaves with angry breaths behind that pillow.
"Bruno!" Her voice cracks like a whip. "I said get out!"
Still nothing. My hands grip the armrests of my wheelchair. Knuckles white. Every muscle locked.
"Are you deaf?" She takes a step toward me. Then another. The pillow stays pressed against her chest but her shoulders are still bare. Still catching the light. "I'm talking to you!"
She's close now. Close enough that I can see the flush spreading across her skin. Close enough to smell jasmine.