just for a bloody contract | Roman Godfrey au

ch. 36 • adjustments

"Liana, sweetie, you're awake," someone said. I squinted my eyes, trying to get used to the light. Mama?

I felt a hand caress my forehead. "I was so worried. Thank goodness you're okay."

I blinked my eyes again and then fully opened them. "Mama," was all I could say before I looked around. I was in my bedroom. As in my bedroom. In my house. And it was morning. Daylight flooded into every little space.

"Wait, what?" I groaned in pain. The pain started rushing in. I held my head. It was bandaged. "I am so confused."

"Liana, rest a while. We have time to talk later," was what my mother said before she shut the bedroom door. I groaned again and closed my eyes.

The next time I opened them, I saw Peter kneeling beside my bed. "Liana, you're awake," he said as he squeezed my hand. "Man, you got me worried. Don't ever do that again."

"Peter?" I asked, probably the most confused I have ever been. "What is going on? Will someone tell me?"

"Hey, relax. Don't strain yourself. I'll explain," Peter said, still holding on to my palm. I looked at the other one. It, too, was bandaged.

"So I don't know what went on, but I got a call from Roman to come to the steel plant, so I did. And you were there. He drove us to the White Tower to get you treated. And then, he told me to take you home. Like here. He didn't say much, and I didn't think it was a good idea to ask. We're friends, but more often than not, I'm on thin ice."

"So he just left?" I asked, my eyes filling with tears again. "He just left me?"

"I don't know, man. I don't know. He wouldn't do that. You know him."

"Do I?" I spat out. I took a moment then said, "Peter, it's not you. It's really not. I'm just so, so glad you're here," I started to cry. Peter put his arm around me and gave me a kiss on the forehead.

"Always here. I promise. Do you want Letha?"

At first, I wanted to say right away, but then I remembered how Roman wanted me to go away from everyone. I had to take this distancing one step at a time. "Not right now. I need to just take a break."

"Completely understandable. Hey, I need to go to work. But I'll be here this evening again. And I can take tomorrow off."

"That won't be necessary. I want you to go to work, okay? I'll be here whenever you're back," I gave Peter a tired smile. He nodded and told me to rest well.

I couldn't believe Roman actually just left me like that. While I was hurt. What was he made of? Was Roman honestly that paranoid about what I did? Or was that just an excuse for him to shut me out? My head hurt from the injury and from thinking. I went back to sleep.

The next time, I woke up, Peter was by my side again. The curtains were drawn, and there wasn't an excessive amount of light penetrating my eyes.

As soon as I woke up, the wedding ring caught my eye. "Peter, can you take it off?"

"Take what off?" Peter asked.

"The ring," I said.

"Woah, missy, let's not get our feelings all tangled up."

"If you're not doing it, I am," I said. I couldn't though. I couldn't move my injured palm to take the ring off the okay hand.

"Gives you more time to think," Peter said. "You need food. You haven't really eaten anything."

"I don't want food. I'm fine," I said.

"You sound like Roman. We don't want that, do we?" Peter smiled. He was sure getting a lot of fun out of this.

"I hate that you will always use that against me. Fine, I'll eat," I groaned.

Peter got up and brought a tray. "Minestrone soup. I got this for you on the way here. You better eat this."

I smiled. "You did that? For me?"

Peter nodded. "I don't know how else to tell you this, but you're sort of my favorite person now. After Letha."

That made me laugh. "You two, I swear," I shook my head. "I can't really use my right hand."

"Right, right. I'll spoon feed you then. But don't expect me to do airplanes or whatever goo-goo ga-ga shit. Letha talks about how she can't wait to do all that. I said I'll be out for a smoke every time she does."

That made me laugh even more. Until I remembered I probably will never see their child. It didn't take long for my smile to fade. "Right," was all I could say before Peter helped me have the soup.

After I was done, I asked Peter if I could see my reports. They said I had suffered from "mild traumatic brain injury". Thankfully there was no internal bleeding. Some Tyenol would help relieve the pain. And I had a skin laceration on my right palm. They used dissolvable sutures. Peter helped me to unwrap my palm and put ointment on, then wrap it with another ribbon of sterile white gauze.

My last semester of physician's assistant training started, and I was very busy with that. It was hard enough with only one working hand, and sometimes the head injury gave me mild headaches. I talked to everyone less and less. I told Peter he didn't need to spend so much on gas and come visit me. Besides, he needs to spend time with Letha, and probably left a lot of housework behind too. So he came by two times a week, but our conversations dwindled. I didn't want to ask him about Shelley and Letha as much as I wanted to. It would make this harder. I didn't talk too much with Mama. She would bring up Roman, the last person I wanted to talk about. It was very lonely and very uneventful.

After two weeks passed, I had slowly started accepting I was probably never going back to Hemlock Grove. I expected Roman to come by one day to officially end the contract. And that would be the last time I'd ever hear of him again.

And that dreaded day came my third week at home. He came into my room, with a stolid expression. His hair still soft, his tall figure wrapped in a long black overcoat, his eyes without a hint of playfulness. He was still gorgeous, but I didn't know what I meant to him anymore. I didn't know what to feel when seeing him. The butterflies I got in my stomach turned into moths being lured to the light, just moments before they collapse. 

"It's been a while," he said.