by Christi Snow
“Can I see that?” Ryder asked. While the paintings always left him with a slightly sick feeling in his gut because he couldn’t remember making them, they still intrigued him.
The doctor handed him the photo.
Stig glanced down at the picture as it was passed a across and murmured, “That’s one of the pieces you created last week when your migraine was so bad.”
“I was particularly fascinated about your life as an artist, and I have a theory about that based on our observations here with other patients and also in part my son, who also had a TBI.
“Note—this is a very simplistic explanation of an incredibly complicated part of the human body. I think the part of your brain most damaged—and we’ll pinpoint this more through our testing on you—is the logical, puzzle solving part of your brain. When you’re fatigued, that’s the first part to go offline. As a result, it frees up the rest of your brain to do what it does best...the art, the creative stuff. That’s why you’re so incredibly prolific when you’re suffering through an episode.”
Ryder tapped the photo still in his hands. “I don’t even remember creating these...any of them. In fact, I can barely paint a wall when my brain isn’t glitching. It’s flat-out weird.”
The doctor laughed. “Welcome to the science of the brain. There’s so much we still can’t explain. The phenomena you’re describing is just a tiny drop in the well of the intricacies of the way it all works. But what we do here, in a sense, retrains the brain to work around the deficit in that one area through a mix of brain exercises and prismatic glasses.”
He typed, and the photo on the screen changed to show how light goes through a prism. “Through prismatic glasses, we can change the angle and input into the brain and manipulate the way you use your brain to work around those damaged areas. We’ll put you through a series of glasses that will aim the input about the world coming through your eyes so that it enters the brain in different areas where there isn’t damage. What we’re doing is changing how the delivery of information goes into your brain so you can process it without having to fatigue the damaged areas.”
He took his focus off his screen and met Ryder’s gaze. “I’ll tell you right now, this is a challenging regime. You’re going to be working your brain in an all-new and exhausting way. I promise you there will be days, especially at first, where it will feel like we’re doing more damage than good.
“I need you to trust me. We will be keeping a very close eye on things and will do everything we can to prevent something from going bad. In a sense, this is like going to NFL boot camp when you’ve only been playing peewee flag football. It’s not going to be pleasant, especially at first. This is going to be an exhausting, intense change for you, and it’s going to take twenty-four hour commitment.”
“Twenty-four hours?” Stig asked, his frown deepening.
“Yes, the eyelid is a very thin piece of skin. What that means is that even in sleep, our environment and the light from it enters our brains through the eyes. We’ve seen it time and again where a patient regresses because they take off the glasses at night. Dreams and thought processes are altered, and in the morning, you’re basically starting over again. The glasses have to stay on twenty-four hours a day to be effective.”
“You mentioned that this is a two-part process.” Ryder didn’t know whether to be worried, anticipatory, or stay doubtful. This sounded intense. “What’s the other part?”
The doctor gave him a stern look. “Yes, you will also be doing daily exercises for your brain to help strengthen the logical, puzzle-solving sides that are undamaged. You’ll be given homework to do every day. You’ll get a better feel for what that will entail over the next couple days of testing, because those same puzzles are integral for pinpointing where you’re starting at and how we can develop our treatment plan for you.”
Dr. Sturgarten shut his laptop lid and the screen behind him went black. “Now, it’s your turn. What questions do you have for me?”
“This sounds intense,” Ryder said. The regime sounded intimidating. But would it be worth it? He had to try. He could be tough. He’d already survived more than most people had to live through in their entire lifetime. “How long does the treatment take to complete?”
The doctor tapped his pen on the file. “Again this varies from person to person, but our average treatment plan is two years for a brain injury as complicated as yours. That’s a logical timeframe to consider for right now. As we see how you respond to treatment, we’ll adjust the timelines accordingly.
“Right now, our first goal is to get you tested so we can get you into your first level of prismatic glasses. Almost all our patients see almost immediate results within just a few days of wearing them. Just keep that in mind as you go through the rigorous testing of the next few days.” He focused on Stig. “That’s important for you both to remember. This isn’t going to be easy, but we have to see Ryder at his worst so we know how we can get him better.”
And with that bit of foreboding encouragement, a cold sweat broke out on Ryder’s back. Why did he suddenly feel like he’d just signed up to become a torture victim? But no matter what torture the testing held for him, he would get through it.
***
Stig
As Stig picked up the very confused, exhausted, and dazed Ryder from Dr. Sturgarten’s office at the end of second day of the three-day testing period, he clenched his jaw.
The doctor had warned them.
Stig had thought he’d been prepared for this. He’d been wrong.
Ryder had no idea who he was, and his eyes swam with tears of exhaustion. “I don’t...” His words sounded mushy, garbled, and he couldn’t even complete the sentence.
“Remember, it’s part of the process,” the nurse said to Stig. She stood behind Ryder’s wheelchair and looked at him with compassion, no apology, no explanation about why his boyfriend looked ready to collapse or at least ready for a hospital bed. How could this be right?
Stig glared at her, but she was already headed back to the office, leaving him with Ryder. He needed Stig to be strong for both of them right now.
“It’s okay, babe, I’ve got you now. Let’s go back to the hotel and maybe get you a hot, relaxing bath and then sleep.” After he got Ryder taken care of, then he’d decide if they could keep on. At what point would Ryder break? Could Stig let them keep pushing him like this?
They hadn’t allowed him to observe the testing. What if he’d signed Ryder up for something that did him more damage instead of helping? Stig felt positively ill at the very real possibility.
Then Ryder hitched a little pained sob, his head cradled in his hands, and Stig had to change his focus. Tonight, he had to focus on Ryder. Tomorrow, he’d focus on the future. Maybe in the morning, Ryder would be clear-headed enough so that he could help make that decision.
For right now, Stig regretted ever pushing Ryder into coming here. Ryder had told him it would be a waste of time. Stig just hadn’t realized it would be so traumatizing for him, too.
***
After a very long night where Ryder kept waking up, needing to paint, Stig woke up when Ryder shifted the next morning.
“Morning,” Ryder said, his voice scratchy with sleep. Those gorgeous blue eyes of his were still red-rimmed and had black circles darkening the skin below, a testament to his exhaustion.
Stig brushed his thumb over that bruised skin now. “Hey, how are you feeling?”
“Like a truck ran me over and knocked my head to the ground a couple of times. Since I don’t remember coming back last night, I’m guessing I was pretty bad. But right now, I know you’re Stig, I love you, and that we’re in St. Louis.”
Stig kissed him lightly. “Three for three.”
“How many days have I been testing? I haven’t lost any days, have I? By my calculations, it’s day three?”
“Yeah, that’s right.” Stig took a deep breath. “I don’t like this. Maybe we should just go home.”
“N
o,” Ryder said emphatically. “Dr. Sturgarten said it would be bad. He was right, so maybe he’s right about all of it. I’m two-thirds of the way there. It would be foolish to give up at this point.”
“Fuck, I really hate that answer, but I admire you for giving it.” His man was strong and brave, and he’d never respected him more than he did at this moment.
“Stick with me for a little bit longer?” Ryder’s look was questioning, like he didn’t trust Stig to stay just because this was hard.
“Forever,” Stig reassured him. “I’m not going anywhere. We’ve got this. We’re in it together.” And if Ryder didn’t trust that now, he’d learn to in time. Stig would eventually gain that trust and prove that he wasn’t going anywhere.
“Then I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure the jackhammers inside my head are worth it.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Stig – A week and a half later...Christmas Eve
“You know,” Mac said as he sidled up to stand beside Stig beside of the Christmas tree, “I never thought I’d see the day when you looked at any man like that.”
Stig didn’t have to ask what Mac meant. He’d been standing off to the side, watching Ryder interact with his brother as they joked around. There was no doubt in his mind that he looked like a love-struck fool, since that’s exactly what he was. He couldn’t get enough of Ryder.
Ryder was everything he never knew he’d been missing in his relationships. They had a connection that fulfilled him. He used to fill that hollow place with BDSM because that was the only way he could connect emotionally with a partner, but with Ryder...their connection was even deeper, more satisfying. He didn’t need the BDSM for that anymore.
It was too early to say for sure, but Stig was pretty positive that his days under a Dom’s whip were behind him. He’d rather be under Ryder...any day or night.
However, they’d discussed it and agreed that if Stig ever did need that outlet again, that he could go to someone like Landon, who they both trusted. Stig just didn’t think it would become an issue again. He was happy.
It had been a week and a half since they’d gotten back from St. Louis and ten full days since Ryder had started wearing the prismatic glasses. The change had been remarkable. He’d been virtually pain free from the moment he’d started wearing the glasses. There were times when he got tired, especially since the glasses wore him out mentally. But he hadn’t glitched, and the weakness at his left side had virtually disappeared completely. He didn’t even carry his cane any more.
But the most marked change had been in Ryder’s personality. Even as he considered it, Ryder’s booming laugh echoed over the room, causing a smile to break over Stig’s face, too. “I like seeing him like this. I had no idea he had so much personality...and admit it, the glasses are sexy, hot.”
“Yep, you’re right.” Mac looked over at the brothers who had their arms slung around one another as they chatted with Emily and her new husband. “Tommy says it’s like having his brother back. Before he got hurt, he was king of the campus in high school. Something about his brain injury caused him to sink into himself. I don’t know...it may have been self-consciousness, which makes sense, but wow. He’s not like that anymore.”
Stig nodded, but that didn’t hide the little niggle of worry from working its way in.
“What’s that look about?” Mac asked. “What drama are you building up in your mind now?”
“I appreciate the support.” Stig scowled at his so-called friend. “I’m not a drama queen.” Well, maybe a little bit.
Mac snorted but nodded like he completely agreed, all while giving him a cheesy, shit-eating grin. The bastard.
“Seriously, Stig.” Mac shook his head. “What are you worried about? Things are great between the two of you. I never saw that coming, but Tommy and I both agree, the two of you seem perfect for one another.”
“You just said it yourself. I’m an aging drama queen. He’s twelve years younger than me at the prime of his life, especially now that his brain is getting healthier. Why would he choose to stay with me?”
Mac shook his head as if Stig were too stupid to live. “You’re such an idiot. That man loves you, Stig. Everyone around you can see just how deep both of you are in this. I don’t understand how or even when it happened, because Jesus, it was fast. But I’ve never seen a couple more in love than the two of you. Accept it. Enjoy it. Hell, enjoy his health. Not many couples go through what you two have gone through and come out the other side as close as the two of you seem to be.”
After Tommy and Mac had gotten back from their honeymoon, there had been a lot to explain...both with Ryder’s treatments and Peter’s upcoming trial. They’d been appalled over all they’d missed out on.
“Don’t question it,” Mac continued. “Believe in it. You’ve both come a long way.”
Believe. That one word brought back the discussion he’d had with Ryder when they’d been discussing going to see Dr. Sturgarten. He’d told Ryder to believe in hope. Maybe for once he should embrace his own advice. It really was that simple, wasn’t it? He just had to hope and believe...in their love, in their bond, in their connection. All of which was truly damn good. He shouldn’t shit on that.
He slapped Mac on the back. “Thanks, Mac.”
“Anytime. Seriously...anytime. I’m always here when you need someone to tell you to get your head out of your ass.”
Stig snorted out a laugh. “Come on, oh wise one. Let’s go join our men.”
He crossed the room.
Ryder looked up as Stig approached, and his eyes heated with a mix of love and desire that took Stig’s breath away. Would he be lucky enough to always have Ryder look at him like that? Hell, he hoped so.
He slid his arm around Ryder’s waist. “Hey, you. Are you having fun?”
“I am, but I’m about ready to get out of here so we can go home for our own Christmas Eve celebration.”
With those few words, Stig grew hard. He kept thinking this incredible desire for Ryder would wane at least a little bit over time, but it hadn’t. And as Ryder got to feeling better and better, his need for sex seemed to increase more and more. At this rate, Stig was going to have to increase his protein intake just to keep up, but he was okay with that.
“I’m ready whenever you are,” Stig answered with a kiss along Ryder’s jawline. He loved this new bespectacled version of his boyfriend. He never knew glasses could be so incredibly sexy, but on Ryder, they most definitely were.
They said their goodbyes to the crew, although they planned to spend the afternoon with all of them again for Christmas dinner at Mac’s place with his mom doing the cooking.
They drove the Aston Martin tonight. Ryder didn’t say much on the way home, but Stig wasn’t worried about it. The more visual stimulation he received, the more exhausted he became. A dinner party—even with just their closest friends and family—fell within that category.
Ryder sat up as he took in his surroundings. “I thought we were going home.”
“We are...my home. I have a present for you there if you’re feeling good enough and don’t mind a minor adjustment to the plans.”
“No, that’s fine, but now I’m wondering what you’re up to.” Curiosity filled his expression.
Stig winked at him. “You won’t have to wait long. We’re only about five minutes away.”
Stig had been staying in Ryder’s apartment since they got back from St. Louis since his home was in the middle of reconstruction after the destruction Peter had wrought. As far as Ryder knew, nothing had been done so far on the house because the insurance company was waiting on the final police report before fulfilling his claim. That was a little white lie.
As soon as he turned onto his street, Ryder gasped. “What did you do?”
“Just a little Christmas Eve surprise.” He’d hired a company to come and decorate. The entire exterior of the house was covered in tiny white twinkle lights, reminiscent of the ones at the botanical gardens on
the night they first kissed. But the surprises didn’t end there.
He pulled the car into the driveway, shut it off, and then went around to the Ryder’s door, opening it for him. When they arrived at the front door, Stig handed Ryder the key. Ryder raised his eyebrows in question, but he took the key and opened the door.
Immediately, Ryder reached back and grabbed hold of Stig’s hand. “You did all this for me?”
“No,” Stig answered. “I did this for us.”
Inside the house, the crews had been working overtime to repair the structural damage so that the house would be in good enough shape for this surprise tonight.
The focal point right now was the huge Christmas tree set up in the corner. A four-poster bed fit for a Bedouin prince stood beside it covered in rich fabrics, pillows, and drapes on all four sides to create a love nest for just the two of them. The bed was decadent and over the top, but Stig figured that was on their first Christmas Eve together and Ryder deserved it. The rest of the room was empty, waiting for decisions to be made.
“Consider this your bare canvas.” Stig reached in his pocket and pulled out another key. “I want this to be our house. I want you to help me decorate it and then move in with me. Under the tree are books of samples—paint, finishes, fabrics. Everything. I want us to make every decision about how to finish it together.
“They say building a house is one of the most stressful things a couple can do together. We don’t have to actually build it, but I figure decorating it will come close. I can’t think of anyone else I’d want to go through that kind of stress with, so think hard before you commit. But know this...I love you with all my heart, and I don’t see us as being something short term. I can wait if this is too fast.”
He didn’t want Ryder to regret committing just because Stig was impatient. He could wait if that’s what Ryder wanted. Foremost, he wanted Ryder happy, but he also wanted them to be happy together. “So, what do you say, Ry? Will you move in with me?”
