“I’ll talk to Dr. Artis. Maybe he can help.”
“I don’t think so. I’m all scarred up. I manage. Once I’m better, I’ll get out of your hair,” Donal promised.
“Don’t leave me, at least until you’re better. But, I’d like it if you stayed. Give it some thought. I won’t ask of you more than you can give.” Alexei sat on the bed.
“I’ll stay until you get sick of me,” Donal agreed.
“I won’t get sick of you,” Alexei said quietly tucking the covers under Donal’s chin.
“Yes, you will. I’m still a whore you picked up from a park bench. I haven’t forgotten and eventually you’ll remember, and I’ll embarrass you.” Donal shrugged, resigned.
“No, you don’t understand…”
“I do understand. I won’t be angry when it happens, but I know it will. You can’t come back from where I’ve been.”