Chapter 35
thirty-five
. . .
Brandon
The first thing I'm aware of is the beeping. Steady, electronic, the kind of sound that immediately tells you you're somewhere you don't want to be. Hospital. The air smells like disinfectant and floor wax, with an underlying medicinal sharpness that makes my throat feel scratchy.
The second thing is the dull ache radiating from my left arm, which feels heavy and wrong in a way that suggests it's been immobilized. When I try to flex my fingers, something hard and rough scrapes against the thin hospital blanket. I realize I'm in a cast from my hand to just below my elbow.
The third thing is warmth. Someone's holding my right hand, and their skin is soft against my palm, anchoring me to consciousness.
My eyes blink open, and my mouth tastes like cotton and something metallic, likely from whatever painkillers they've pumped into me.
The room is dim, but not dark, with that twilight hospital lighting that never lets you know what time it is. The bed feels too narrow, the mattress firm in that institutional way, and beneath the strong smell of astringent is something more familiar.
Then I see Stella.
She's sitting in the plastic hospital chair, pulled up close to my bed, her fingers interlaced with mine, and she looks like she's been crying.
Her hair is messier than usual, and there are mascara smudges under her eyes that she hasn't bothered to wipe away.
The hint of vanilla and citrus is almost healing when I catch a whiff.
“Hey,” I manage, my voice dry and rough like I've been swallowing sandpaper.
“Oh, thank God.” The relief in her voice is so profound that it makes my chest tight. “How do you feel?”
“Like I fell off a building.” I try to sit up and immediately think better of it when my head protests with a sharp spike of pain. The room tilts slightly, and I have to close my eyes until it settles. “What happened? Last thing I remember was that cable snapping.”
“Fifteen-foot fall when your safety line broke,” Stella says, and her grip on my hand tightens. “You've got a broken arm and a concussion, but the doctor said you're incredibly lucky. The way you managed to adjust mid-fall and hit the mats probably saved you from much worse.”
“How long was I out?”
“About three hours. They had to set your arm and do some scans to make sure there was no internal bleeding.” She reaches over to brush hair off my forehead with her free hand. “Tony said you knew exactly what to do when the cable snapped. That your experience saved you.”
The touch is gentle, careful, but I can feel her hand trembling slightly. “Hey, I'm okay. Really.”
“You could have died, Brandon.” Her voice cracks on the words. “When I saw you fall, when you weren't moving. I thought I was going to lose you before I ever got to tell you…”
She trails off, but something in her expression makes my heart rate pick up, which apparently registers on the monitor because it starts beeping faster.
“Tell me what?” I ask softly.
Stella takes a shaky breath, and her eyes meet mine with an intensity that makes everything else fade away.
“That I'm in love with you. That I have been for weeks, maybe months, and I was too scared to admit it.
That what happened between us wasn't just physical for me, and I don't care if it was just that for you because I needed you to know.”
The words hit me like a physical force, and for a moment, I can't breathe. “Stella—”
“I know you told Helena we weren't together,” she continues, the words tumbling out like she's afraid I'll stop her.
“And I know you probably have good reasons, and maybe you were just being kind by not rejecting me outright, but sitting in that waiting room, thinking you might never wake up, made me realize that I'd rather risk everything than spend another day pretending I don't love you.”
“Stop,” I say, squeezing her hand to get her attention. “Just stop for a second.”
She looks at me with those blue eyes, which are bright with tears, and I feel something settle into place in my chest. Something that's been trying to find its way there for months.
“You think I told Helena we weren't together because I don't want to be with you?”
“I don't know, maybe?”
“Stella.” I bring our joined hands to my lips and press a soft kiss to her knuckles. “I told Helena we were just friends because we hadn't talked about what we are yet. I didn't want to tell anyone anything until you and I figured out what we wanted this to be.”
“What do you want it to be?” she whispers.
“Everything,” I say without hesitation. “I want everything with you. I want to wake up next to you every morning. I want to take you to family dinners and listen to you charm my sisters. I want to fight about what to watch on TV and make up by doing things that would scandalize your mother.”
She laughs through her tears, and the sound warms my chest.
“I want to support your career and have you support mine. I want to be the person you call when you have good news and the person who holds you when you have bad news.” I pause, my thumb tracing across her knuckles. “I want to love you, Stella. Openly, honestly, for as long as you'll let me.”
“You love me?” The question is barely a whisper.
“I'm completely gone for you,” I admit. “Have been since the first time you made me laugh during one of those terrible reality shows. Maybe even before that. You snuck up on me, sunshine. One day, we were friends, and the next, I couldn't imagine my life without you in it.”
She leans forward, bringing her face closer to mine, and I can see the exact moment she decides to believe me. “I love you, too. So much it scares me.”
“Good,” I say, using my good hand to cup her cheek. “Because anything worth having should be a little scary.”
When she kisses me, it's soft and sweet and tastes like tears and promises, and I pour everything I've been feeling into it: the fear when I realized I was falling, the relief of waking up to her face, and the overwhelming gratitude that she's here and she's mine.
“I'm sorry I doubted you,” she murmurs against my lips. “I should have just asked instead of assuming the worst.”
“I'm sorry I didn't tell you how I felt sooner. I kept thinking I had time, that I could figure out the perfect way to say it.” I brush my thumb across her cheek. “Turns out there's no perfect timing for this stuff.”
She smiles against my mouth. “Maybe the timing was exactly right. Sometimes, it takes almost losing something to realize how much it means to you.”
“Is that your way of saying you're glad I fell off a building?”
“Don't joke about that.” Her expression grows serious, and she pulls back just enough to look me in the eyes. “When I saw you fall…” She shakes her head. “I can't lose you, Brandon. Not when I just got you.”
“Hey.” I squeeze her hand. “I'm not going anywhere. I'm tougher than I look.”
“You better be because, now that we've figured this out, I have plans for you that require you to be in one piece.” Her smile returns, but there's still worry in her eyes. “Speaking of which, you need to focus on getting better. No more stunts until you're completely cleared.”
“What about the F1 project? Did Helena—”
“Already handled,” Stella says with a smile. “I may have made a few calls while you were unconscious. Helena knows what happened, and she's holding the position for you. She said anyone tough enough to walk away from a fifteen-foot fall is exactly who she wants coordinating her stunts.”
“You called Helena?”
“I called everyone I could think of to make sure this accident didn't hurt your career. That's what partners do for each other.” She pauses, and color rises in her cheeks. “If that's what we are. Partners.”
“Partners,” I repeat, testing the word. It fits perfectly. “I like the sound of that.”
“Good, because I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me, Grimaldi.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” She leans forward to kiss me again, and this time, there's nothing tentative about it. It's the kiss of a woman who knows exactly what she wants and isn't afraid to claim it.
When we break apart, we're both breathing harder, and I'm reminded of all the reasons I fell for her in the first place. Her strength, her loyalty, the way she makes everything in my life better just by being part of it.
“I should probably call my family,” I say reluctantly. “They're going to lose their minds when they find out I'm in the hospital.”
“Already done. I called Nina while you were in surgery.” Stella's cheeks flush slightly.
“She had a lot of questions about who I was and why I was calling, so I just said I was your neighbor and close friend. Emergency contact. That seemed to satisfy her enough to keep her from booking the next flight to LAX.”
“Oh, no.” I groan, though I'm smiling. “Stella, you have no idea what you've just done. My family has been waiting for this moment for years.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, they've given up hope that I'll ever settle down. And now, suddenly, there's someone calling about me from a hospital?” I shake my head. “I hope you're ready for the backlash.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, they're going to want to meet you immediately.”
Her eyes widen slightly. “Meet me?”
“You know, we do this big Fourth of July thing every year at my parents' place in the Hamptons. You should come with me.” The words come out before I've really thought them through, but the moment I say them, I know I mean it.
“I mean, if you want to. It's pretty overwhelming. My whole family descends, and it gets loud and chaotic.”
“You've never brought anyone home,” she says quietly, and it's not a question.
“No. Never had anyone I wanted them to meet.” I pause, studying her face. “But I want them to know you. I want you to be part of that.”
She's quiet for a moment, and I can see her processing what this means. Then she reaches up to touch my cheek, and her thumb traces my jawline.
“I'd love to meet your family,” she says softly. “On one condition. You have to be my plus-one for the charity gala my mom already tried to invite you to.”
“Deal.” I catch her hand and press it against my cheek. “Now, crawl up in here with me so I can kiss you.”