“Anything else, babe?” His voice is close to my ear but at a normal decibel level, and I can feel the warm tickle of breath against my eardrum.
“Yeah.” I sigh, the glare against the darks of my eyelids gone, some angel having found the fry light and turned it off. “Stop strangling my hands.”
If he responds, I don’t hear it. Darkness is once again my new best friend.
DANA
I find Stewart in one of the lobby chairs; he looks up at my approach. “Hey sis,” he says dully.
“She’s asleep but stable. You didn’t want to stay in the room?”
He shakes his head, lifting a hand and massaging his temples.
I sit next to him, run my hand over his shoulder, picking a bit of lint off the material. “It’s okay, that she didn’t see you when she woke up. She’ll know that you were here. Chances are she won’t even remember it.”
He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. The point wasn’t for her to see me. I’m just glad I saw it.” He lets out a breath of air. “God, when her eyes opened... when I heard her voice... it was like a weight off my shoulders. I’ve never been so scared, Dana. I mean, with Jennifer, there was never an unknown period. We were just told what happened. And had to deal with it in any way we could. With Madison... the unknown, the waiting...” he turns his head, looking at me. “I was terrified.”
I look into his eyes. Eyes that have matured so much in the last few years. He sits like the weight of the world rests on his shoulders. And in his eyes... I see disappointment, an emotion that I don’t understand. “You should go in there. She might wake back up.”
His eyes darken. “No. I want Paul... God, I don’t know.” He looks down, leans forward in his chair and rests his forearms on his knees. “I don’t think...” he says carefully, every word measured, “that I deserve her.”
“In what way?”
He runs his fingers over his mouth. “I don’t think I can do it, D.” He looks back at me. “I wouldn’t tell another soul but you this. The work—the job—I don’t know that I can walk from it. Cut back my hours to a level that she would expect. Deserve.” He snorts, disgust in his eyes. “Fuck, I can’t even sit in a hospital room while she struggles for life and not think about it.” He looks away. “Paul... he doesn’t struggle with that. He—in there—all he’s thinking about is her. All that he loves in life is her.” His shoulders sink. “Do I have the right to take that from him? Only to fail her later?”
He runs a hand through his hair, gripping it before dropping his head into his hands. “But where does that leave me? A life alone? With nothing but my work? She—she is the only thing I have other than that.”
I reach out a hand and grab his knee, squeezing it hard until he looks at me, a haunted look in his eyes. “Stewart—I know that you love her. But you will meet someone who you will happily set aside work for. You won’t have to try and cut back your hours. You won’t be able to stay away from them. That is when you’ll know that you have found the person you are meant to be with. When your life is no longer your own, and you are shoving that sacrifice forward willingly.”
He holds my gaze for a long moment before glancing towards the ICU doors. “So what, you think that is how Paul feels? You think she ‘is it’ for him?”
I follow his glance, flipping back through everything I have seen today. “I don’t know.” I say carefully. “I think you and I both still see Paul as he once was—emotional and tender-hearted. But he is ten years older now. I do know that he is not the boy we once knew. And the only thing on his mind in there is her. He... he’s not like anything I would expect. It terrifies me how singularly focused he is on her. It’s as if he thinks he can will and love her back to health.”
He groans. “God, you make me feel like shit, D.”
I lean against his shoulder, looping my arm through his. “You’re sacrificing a piece of your life for him. This is the proudest I’ve ever been of you.” I turn my head, my peripheral vision seeing the edge of his lips curl slightly.
“I haven’t made a decision, Dana.”
“Yes you have,” I say firmly. “Now go outside and make your calls. I’ll tell Paul.” I stand, brushing off my pants and reach for my purse, his hands stopping me, the insistent press of them causing me to pause.
“I love her.” The raw need in his eyes gives me pause, a spike of pain hitting my heart.
“I know,” I say softly. “But you love him, too. And you know that I’m right.”
His jaw tightens.
MADISON
Kisses. Soft kisses on my cheeks, nose, moving down my neck. I shift slightly, bending my head to the face in my neck, slowly opening my eyes to—thank God—a softly lit room. The kisses find their way to my lips and I smile, recognizing the scruff, the soft way he cradles my head. “Hey baby.”
“Hey.” He kisses my forehead. “How do you feel?”
“Okay.” My head aches. “What time is it?”
“Almost ten. In about ten minutes their most intimidating nurse is going to come in and try and kick me out. Just in case she succeeds I wanted to say hi.”
“Hi,” I say weakly, and Paul smiles.
“What happened?” I glance around the room, realizing that my neck now moves, that I can turn my head with ease. Ouch. After that blinding slice of pain, maybe I should take it easy.
“You wiped out. The board must have hit you on the head.”
“I’m in the hospital for that?”
His face tightens. “You were without oxygen for a while. And with head trauma... for a while we didn’t think you’d make it.”
“We?”
His eyes hold mine. “The doctors... and also Stewart. He was here.”
My heart sinks in my chest. “Here?” With you? The unspoken words scream through my mind.
“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “But don’t worry about that now. You need to rest.”
“He’s not here now.”
“No. He left a few hours ago. Once your condition stabilized.”
“And how long will you stay?”
He watches my eyes carefully. “Until they drag me away.”
I smile, my eyes closing as another burst of pain lights every receptor in my brain. “My head hurts,” I mumble.
I hear him stand, his hand brushing my hair back, placing a soft kiss on my forehead. “I’ll get the nurse,” he whispers.
I keep my eyes closed and wait for the pain to ease, my racing thoughts interfering with the process. Stewart was here. With Paul. In the same room. Speaking. Interacting. I am almost grateful for my unconscious state. I cannot imagine the words spoken, the conversations had. I would wonder at his absence—wonder what that means to our relationship, but it is Stewart. His work, no doubt, needed attention. I am surprised he stayed until I gained consciousness. I wonder what will happen with my relationships. This is surely the moment. I always thought that when this happened, I would have to choose. Which of my men I love the most. But now, with hours of unknown events, chances are that that choice has been taken from me. And in that light, Stewart’s absence seems more notable.
I hear the door and reopen my eyes, watch as a nurse scurries in, pressing buttons and making adjustments. “You’re awake!” she says with a beam. She lifts a remote, presses it into my palm. “This is painkiller. Just press this button if the discomfort gets too strong. I’m adding a bit into your IV, so I wouldn’t be surprised if you fall back asleep pretty soon.”