Isabella crunched into her apple, the sound filling the quiet room.
Ethan stared at her for what felt like forever before finally dragging himself over to the cot in the corner. He flopped down, still sulking, his gaze never leaving her.
Isabella held out her half-eaten apple. “Want a bite?”
He shook his head. “No. I’m already full of frustration.”
She grinned. “That’s handy. No need for dinner if irritation fills you up. And eating means you’d have to open your mouth.”
Ethan just looked at her, lost for words.
“You should get some sleep and maybe dream about who tried to kill me. If you ever figure it out, the truth might scare you half to death. Hopefully your heart’s strong enough to handle it.”
He didn’t respond. He just sat there, silent, before finally lying down. But he couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned, restless.
“Isabella, I can’t sleep. Can we talk?” Ethan sat up, rubbing his eyes.
She didn’t look at him. “I don’t think there’s anything left to talk about.”
What was the point? They were on the verge of divorce. She couldn’t forgive him and she knew he’d never love her. It was better to just follow his plan, wait until she was discharged, get the divorce, and go their separate ways.
“If you really can’t sleep, want me to help?” Isabella’s eyes sparkled with mischief.
He was curious. “How would you help me?”
She climbed out of bed.
“Slow down. You’re not fully healed yet.” Ethan sprang up, hurrying to steady her.
She waved him off. “Sit on the cot.”

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