34. “Come Sail Away”
Chapter 34
“Come Sail Away”
Taz - Age 24, 1994
I ’m jolted awake by a piercing pain in my head, and a thick, dreamy fog blankets the room as I struggle to pry my heavy eyelids open. As I shift in the bed, I am engulfed by the plush embrace of the most luxurious mattress I have ever had the pleasure of sinking into. It whispers seductively, tempting me to slip back into the blissful nothingness of sleep.
With a content sigh, I nestle into the soft pillows on my side, inhaling deeply and being instantly transported to a world of magic and sweetness. The scent of strawberries intermingled with warm vanilla fills my senses, and I smile as I realize it’s not just the pillows emitting this heavenly aroma—it’s the woman lying next to me. Sascha. My love.
As I slowly regain consciousness, my eyes struggle to adjust to the stark whiteness of the room. Sounds and smells swirl around me, disorienting and overwhelming. A blood pressure cuff tightens around my arm, squeezing the life out of it. Panic sets in as I realize where I am—the hospital. But how did I get here? My mind races, trying to remember the last thing before everything went blank.
It hits me like a punch to the gut—I was on the ice. My coach had tried to talk me out of playing, but I couldn’t be dissuaded. The look in my eyes must have told him that. I remember feeling angry and reckless even as I charged onto the ice without thinking. And then it happened—a hard check that sent shockwaves through my body.
Amidst the chaos and confusion, one thing stands out like a beacon of hope—she’s here. The mere thought of her brings a surge of emotions, and I try to move my arm toward her, only to be met with a sharp, searing pain in my ribs that steals my breath away and forces a cry out of my lips. I feel her hands on me, cool and soothing against the heat radiating from my body.
Sascha jumps up and out of bed from a deep slumber, her eyes wide with worry. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Do you need medicine? Should I call the nurse?” Her questions come at me rapid-fire. I can’t help but let out a soft chuckle at her overreaction, even though it causes intense pain to shoot through my ribs.
“That’s the most you’ve ever said at one time, Princess.” My words come out as a hoarse whisper, but seeing her concern makes it worth it. She is like an angel, watching over me in this sterile hospital room.
Her tense shoulders release their tightness ever so slightly, the concern in her expression softening. “Seriously, Taz, are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” I assure her. “I’ve suffered through worse injuries before.”
Her eyebrows furrow, and she steps closer to me, her hand reaching out to gently touch my bruised cheek. “Don’t downplay this, Taz. You have a concussion and several broken ribs. You were unconscious on the ice.”
A solitary tear escapes her eye and rolls down her flushed cheek, highlighting the worry and care etched on her face. Despite feeling guilty that she’s upset because of me, I can’t help but feel a flutter of warmth in my chest. This is the first time she’s let me see this vulnerable side of her.
“It took you long enough,” I tease lightly, hoping to bring a smile back to her lips.
Her expression is one of bewilderment, her eyes sparkling with confusion and curiosity. “What?” she asks, her voice like a gentle breeze on a sunny day.
“Gram said I had to let you go and that you would find your way back to me,” I explain. “But she neglected to mention that it would take so long.”
“You and Gram planned this all along, didn’t you?” Her lips curve into a knowing smile as she looks at me.
“Maybe,” I admit, returning her smile. “I’m sorry for scaring you with my disappearance.”
“We were so worried about you,” she admits.
“We?”
“Landry and I searched for you. We went to your house, Donnelly Ice Center, the nursing home, the high school, anywhere and everywhere we thought you might have gone.”
“I apologize, my love,” I gently murmur to her. “I drove to Gram’s old house, circled around, and then impulsively rented a car to return here.”
“You drove all the way back here?” Her eyes widen with surprise.
“I was speeding, trying to outrun the pain,” my voice catches in my throat.
“But you can’t run from it, baby,” she whispers, her fingers tenderly brushing against my cheek. “You let yourself feel it. We feel it together.”
“You’ve never called me that before,” I remark, my heart fluttering at the new nickname.
The words hang in the air, charged with emotion and vulnerability. “Well, you are,” she says softly, her eyes searching mine. “You’re mine, Taz. And I’m yours. We don’t go through things alone anymore. Tell me you understand that.”
Knowing her words are true, I can’t look away from her piercing gaze. “I understand,” I admit, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. Finally, I can let myself believe it —we are in this together. “Remember the other night when you told me how you felt about me?” I ask, a small smile playing on my lips.
A rush of heat floods her cheeks. “No, I don’t remember that at all,” she replies playfully.
“You’re messing with an injured man, you know that?”
“Well, if you’re going to play the injury card, you leave me no choice.” She takes a deep breath and sits on the end of the bed, facing me. “I, Sascha Bell, am deeply, hopelessly, stupidly in love with you, Michael Tazman.”
A surge of warmth and relief washed over me. “I love you too, Sash. Since you first held my hand and made me feel like I was home.”
Tears well up in her eyes as she leans forward and presses her forehead against mine. “So now what?” I whisper.
She reaches out and tangles her fingers with mine. “Now, you take a few weeks off to heal.”
My heart sinks at the mere thought. Missing hockey is like missing a piece of my soul. “But I’ll be here to nurse you back to health,” she reassures me with a flirty smile. I like the sound of that.
“I have a campaign to pitch,” she continues, her eyes sparkling with determination. “And we have a future to plan. Together.” The warmth in her voice and the sparkle in her eyes make me forget about my injury momentarily as I look forward to creating a future with her by my side.
“That future we’re creating together involves plenty of sex, right?” My words are laced with a playful smirk.
Sascha rolls her eyes in response, the playful glint in her eyes matching my own. “Yes, Taz. Our future will be filled with lots and lots of sex.”
THE END