Six hours later, I came home from the hospital with a bulky cast on my wrist, a bag of half-melted ice, and a prescription for Percocet. I'd broken a small bone in my wrist, nothing serious, but it hurt like heck.
Gavin opened the front door for me and helped me collapse onto the couch. He'd been acting like a gentleman the entire time -- getting doors, doing whatever I asked, and constantly questioning if I was OK. As if he knew that this whole thing was his fault.
"I'll make dinner," he said, and walked off to the kitchen. "You should probably call Mom and Dad and tell them what happened."
Our parents were travelling through Italy for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. They'd left for the trip just a couple days before and wouldn't be back for a month. That was one of the reasons
