Chapter 35
35
Laird
“What’s a little internal bleeding?”
My mom’s sigh leaves her frowning, but when she wipes under her eyes again, it softens. “Don’t joke like that. I was so worried.” She’s gentle when she touches my arm. If she could make sure I’m in one piece, she would, but she’ll have to rely on the doctors this time.
“I’m okay. I promise.”
She moves beside my dad, out of sorts and clutching her purse as if she needs to busy herself. I suppose that’s what happens when the roles change because your children are grown. “Hey, Mom, one last hug?”
Her smile is worth the pain enduring. I’ll never tell, refusing to make her feel bad for caring about me. I’ll be the same with my kids—always there for them.
“Tonight was not funny, Laird,” Nikki says, holding Tulsa’s hand.
“Tough crowd. I’ll try harder next time.” She rolls her eyes under quiet laughter. It’s fun to get her going. Reminds me of when we were little. We just looked at each other across the room from our time-out corners and got time tacked on for laughing so hard. I was trouble enough, but we were twins. Good times.
My dad steps off to the side of the corridor and lowers his voice. “Paparazzi are outside.”
Tulsa looks over his shoulder and then steps behind Nikki as if he can shield her from prying eyes. “I told Johnny and Tommy not to come to the hospital, but they’d be here if it didn’t cause such a distraction.”
Nikki adds, “I told Tulsa’s brothers the same. It’s too much attention when we didn’t know what we were facing on arrival. With you, Poppy, or dealing with those jerks.” Coming closer, she holds her arms out.
“It’s for the best.” I bring her in, flinching when she tries to embrace me like usual.
“Sorry.” Her grimace is unnatural to her typically happier expression. I hate that I’m worrying everyone. “We need you healed.”
I glance at a doctor walking by. When he passes, the nurses at the station nearby duck and start looking busy. I’d heard whispers earlier and spotted them staring. I smile and receive a fit of giggles in return.
Taking my mom by the hand, my dad angles her toward the elevator. “It’s late, and we know you’re anxious to see Poppy.”
I look at the door and then to the name tag on the wall where someone put a sticker of a poppy flower. I learned to appreciate the little things years ago, but this little bright spot brings hope along with it. Like the woman inside the room.
“Love you,” my mom says after the others have walked away. “You know where to find me. ”
“Love you, Mom.” Careful not to shoulder the door open like I usually would, I use the handle as intended and slip into the dark room. My eyes are quick to adjust to the low light extended by a lamp in the corner. I prefer less light existing in the space. It’s more comforting than bright fluorescent lights overhead.
Poppy’s sleeping, curled on her side. I don’t mind. It gives me a minute to do my own investigation of her injuries. Looks like all the pieces are in the right spot. Standing next to her, I sweep a few strands of hair back from her face, revealing a splattering of small cuts that look like they’re already healing.
I have the same. We’re lucky the shattered windshield didn’t do more damage to either of us. I’m still pissed at the airbags, though. It caused a fractured rib and a shoulder that needed to be popped back into place. I don’t have the rundown on Poppy’s wounds and injuries, but I’m glad she looks like she’s doing well.
A gentle tap on the door is followed by someone opening it. A nurse pokes her head in, her eyes dashing from Poppy to me standing on the other side of the bed. “Hello, is this a good time?”
“Come in.”
She moves to the machine and begins recording information on an e-pad. “Her heart rate is good, the beat steady and strong.” Glancing over at me, she adds, “She’s a fighter.”
“She is.” When she turns down the volume, I say, “I like hearing her heartbeat. Comfort is found in the rhythm of it.”
“I like that.” She moves to fill a cup of water from a pink plastic pitcher on that side of the bed. “I hear you’re a musician.”
“I play guitar. ”
“Lead or bass?”
“You know your guitars.”
Delicate fingers reach for me. I slip my hand into Poppy’s and then cover it with my other because it feels so cold. Poppy whispers, “And I know yours.”
I smile, seeing her eyes open as much as they can. The swelling will go down, and the black eye will eventually disappear. “What do you know about my guitars, baby?”
“I know they look like your first acoustic and electric guitars.”
“That’s right.” She remembers from our night in Austin when we talked about so much that we left out a few important details. We crossed every line we could find, and wound up falling in love. No one would have predicted it, but it’s all true.
The volume returns to its previous level, and the nurse says, “Water is in the cup, and if you need anything, there’s a call button on the remote tucked right on the side of the mattress.”
As the nurse makes her way to the door, Poppy asks, “How do I find out if I have any messages or missed calls?”
The nurse’s head tilts as if the question was asked in a foreign language. “No, that’s not how it works. The calls are sent directly to your room.” She points at a table on the other side of the bed. “If someone calls, it’s for you.”
Opening the door, she asks, “Anything else?”
“No.” The devastation is heard in Poppy’s tone, but she keeps her chin held high. It’s not the first time, and I would be willing to wager it won’t be the last. Her parents were the shitty cards she was dealt. “Thank you,” Poppy replies just before the door shuts, and then she lies on her back, closing her eyes .
I get the cup of water and go to her side to help her sit up to drink. “I love you.”
She cracks a small smile, but it fumbles and is gone before it leaves any impact. “I know. I love you, too. I just . . .” She looks toward the lamp, but there are no tears despite the quiver heard in her voice. “It would be nice to have a mom who cared.”
Nothing I can say will make this better or fix it. Normally, I’d fill the void her parents have left by distracting her with something fun or delicious. Letting her run the gamut of her emotions this time is best.
It’s not long before she’s smothering her feelings and looking around for entertainment. As if we’d been in the middle of a conversation already, Poppy says, “Riddle me this, I held you as you came close to death, but I’m the one stuck in the hospital bed for ‘observation.’ Does this seem fair to you?” She takes another sip.
Chuckling, I bend down and kiss her head and then her lips, staying there, tasting her again. Like fresh air in my lungs, I feel alive with her. “I may have looked like death, but I wasn’t knocking on death’s door.” I tuck my knuckle under her chin just so I can flagrantly admire her. “Honest truth, I wouldn’t have made it without you, baby. That’s quite the shiner you got there.”
I can tell myself there’s no permanent damage. I know that’s another lie I’m hoping to fall for one day. My shoulders curve over, and the realization that nothing is guaranteed sets in. It’s a lesson she learned a long time ago. “I’m sorry,” I say, my voice low to fit the early morning hour. “I’m so sorry for betraying you. I thought what I was doing was for you. My good intentions made things worse.” I slide my gaze to the machine where I won’t have to see the disappointment or pain I’ve caused her .
With her hand still held in mine, she says, “Come closer, babe.” I inch left and lean down, but she adds, “In bed with me.”
“Can we do that?”
“Wow, you used to be so spontaneous. Be wild with me again, Laird.”
“I’ll be a rebel for you anytime.” I pull the railing up and then slide to lower it. “You always said it’s more fun to break the rules than play by them.”
Sliding toward the other side of the hospital bed, she leaves room for me. It will be a tight squeeze, but we’ll manage. I’ll do anything to be close to her again.
I kick off my shoes and get as comfortable as I can in the space allotted and try to avoid aggravating my injuries. Poppy says, “Lift.”
I chuckle, lifting my arm for her to snuggle against me. Seeing her smile and breathe air not tainted with my sins is good. I know we’ll get into those soon enough, and the knot the doctors couldn’t find on the X-ray will return.
Anchoring her hand between us, she slowly props herself up. “I would have never said what I did if I’d had all the information.” My chest tightens as I stare into her eyes. It’s too dark to pick out my favorite colors, but they’re all my favorites anyway. I hope I get the opportunity to see them in the sunlight. She’s my favorite person ever. Cautious, she slides her hand over my stomach, eliciting the muscles to react to her touch.
All of them.
Yeah, I’m the asshole whose girlfriend gives him a hard-on . . . Wait . . . I’m pretty sure that’s how it’s supposed to work, so my reactions are working just fine.
She leans in and kisses my cheek. “You didn’t betray me. You loved me, Laird. You were loving me so hard to bring back my memories while I was stifling them out of fear. I can see that now.”
“Fear of what?”
Her breath is shortened so she leans back, dropping her head on my shoulder. The pain meds I took hours ago are wearing off, but they never blocked it entirely anyway. It’s excruciating, so I control my breathing, hoping she doesn’t get wind of my pain.
“Fear of what it would tell me, fear of losing you if I found out I had loved someone else.” Her gaze lowers, and her hand stills. Another bated breath is taken and then she looks me in the eyes again. “I would have chosen you—”
“But you don’t have to choose.”
“No. Please. You’re going to try to take the weight of the mistakes I’ve made off me and carry them yourself. That’s what you do. You love so big that it consumes you and me in the process. I’m not thinking clearly when I’m under your spell.”
“You’re not in love with me, or you’re not under my spell, or they’re the same thing?”
“No, that’s what I mean. Please know that I do love you with all my being. I just don’t want you to sweep this away thinking it’s what I need, or to protect me. I need to face this. I need to see things clearly for what they are, and not some charade put on to make sure I never get hurt. It’s okay if I get hurt. It’s okay for us to fight. It’s okay because that’s living, living consciously, and growing.” When she touches my cheek, her soft smile wins my heart all over again. “That’s loving. That’s the relationship I want with you.”
“Something real.”
She nods. “Yes, I want real, even if it’s not pretty.”
“I want that with you as well.”
I don’t think she realizes she’s twisting the fabric of my shirt in her fingers. The importance of her expression—her eyes locked on mine, her forehead tugged together in the middle, and how her leg is putting pressure to leverage against mine—captivates me. She says, “I was trapped in a bubble of my own making since the accident. I tried so desperately early on to find the answers, thinking it would solve all my problems, but I came up empty. After that, I just failed to launch back into life, to move forward until you came along. That’s what you gave me. I didn’t need my past to build a life worth living. I was already in it.”
“You—”
Placing her finger over my mouth, she giggles. “I need you to listen.” Her feelings are as big as our love, her eyes as bright, and I can see hope rising in her smile. “I will choose you every time. In every lifetime. Our past, present, and future. I will never discount the power of destiny again. I’m embracing it. My soul was with you in that car. When you pulled me from the vehicle, my heart was in your hands.”
I cup her jaw and move her closer. “But it was the strength of your love that saved us both in the end.”
“Don’t you see?” she asks, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “This is only our beginning, babe.”
“How many chances do we get in one life? I fell in love with you twice already. Do we get a third?”
“We’re already in it.”
She leans forward to rest her head against mine. Her hand caresses my cheek, but she doesn’t realize how she’s soothing my soul. “I’ve fallen in love in every iteration of our relationship because I fell in love with you. And I’ll continue to do so.”
Her body shakes gently under a roll of laughter. “I know you want to say something. I’m voting for inappropriate so I can push this guilt I feel aside for a bit. Go ahead and get it off your chest.”
“First,” I start, tapping my fingers on her hip. “You have nothing to feel guilty about because you did nothing wrong. You were doing the best you could with what you knew at the time. Second, I still owe you an apology. I never intended for things to get out of hand like they did. Eventually, I was caught in the web I created and didn’t see a way out.”
Her bottom lip pops out a little. “And there you go being amazing again. How are you so perfect?”
“What can I say? I’m just built this way.”
That laugh is balm for my soul, telling me all I need to know. We’re going to be okay. We’re getting through it together. She says, “And you couldn’t even humor me. You just had to pull out the stops per usual. I don’t think it’s possible not to be in love with you. It just feels so natural. It’s so easy to love you.”
“Well, I hadn’t quite finished.”
She smirks and it’s good to know I can bring out all sides of her. Her confidence being the best. “Oh yeah? Do tell.”
“Third, you get me into your hospital bed, and then you take the burden off my shoulders? Next, you’ll be telling me how exceptionally sexy I am and that you want to pleasure me with that fucking incredible mouth of yours.”
“All three can mutually exist.” I move my fingers over her hip, playing the notes only we can hear. She laughs again and adds, “If this isn’t romance, I don’t know what is.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll show you. Every day for the rest of our lives.”
I bring her closer to meet in the middle and kiss her. I don’t deepen it because we have time for that when we’re not on the verge of someone walking in on us. But I do pull back to see her eyes and tell her, “I would have waited forever for you.”
All joking subsides, and she whispers, “I know. It’s good we found each other again so we didn’t have to spend our lives searching for one another.”
Truer words have never been spoken.