“I don’t care what he’s offering. I’d never go back to him. Please, let’s just forget about Oliver. He’s the last thing on my mind right now. Let’s go to the hospital.”

“I’m fine.”

“How can you say that when I see you wince every time you breathe?”

“Are you worried about me?” he asks, eyes on the road, never looking away.

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“No reason,” he murmurs, offering a faint smile.

When we get home, I help him out of the car and ...