Chapter 24 #2
A flash of surprise crosses her face before she gives me a quick once-over, taking in the pajamas, tangled hair, and slippers that barely stayed on through the parking lot sprint.
Clearly, I’m not the wife she pictured for a man like Linc. I’d be more annoyed if I wasn’t sick with worry.
“All right.” She finally nods. “Not too long though. He needs his rest. We’ll be transferring him to another room as soon as we can.”
I catch her arm before she can turn.
“Is he—” My voice breaks before I clear it. “Is he okay?”
Her eyes soften as she nods. “He will be.”
Relief crashes into me like a wave, hot behind my eyes. “Thank you.”
She steps aside, allowing me to enter.
The room is dim and hushed, the steady beep of a monitor threading through the air like a menace.
A curtain shields the bed, a pale barrier between me and the man who’s been under my skin since childhood.
I inch forward on trembling legs, each step carrying the weight of every word I never said.
My hand lifts, ready to pull the curtain back, but stops.
Instead, I rest my palm against the cool fabric, eyes falling shut as the moment catches up to me.
“It’s me.” The words barely make it past my lips, a whisper threading through the sterile quiet. “I came as soon as I heard.”
The room hums with low beeps of machines and faint rush of oxygen, each sound a cruel reminder of where I am.
“There’s so much I need to tell you. So much I should’ve said before.” My fingers clutch the curtain, fabric biting into my skin. “I don’t know how much time we have, so, please…just let me get this out.”
No movement. No sound. Only silent permission to go on.
“What you said yesterday…you were right. I was scared, but not for the reasons you think.”
A breath catches in my throat, tight and shallow.
“We circled this thing for so long, Linc—pushing, pulling, pretending it wasn’t real. And now that we’ve stopped fighting it…” My voice trembles, thinning to a whisper. “It’s more than I ever imagined. More than I ever thought I could feel for anyone.”
Tears slip free, first one, then another—each one a warm reminder of everything I’ve held back.
“But that doesn’t scare me. Loving you doesn’t scare me, because the truth is, I always have. Even when you were that insufferable little punk pelting me with slime like it was your life’s mission.”
A shaky laugh slips free, fragile as glass, before grief swallows it whole.
“It’s not the love that scares me. It’s losing it that terrifies me.”
The sob builds fast, sharp in my chest, but I push through it.
“Still, I’d rather risk the fall—every broken piece of it—than pretending I never felt it at all.”
It isn’t just a confession. It’s a promise, carved out of years of silence and stubborn pride.
“I want that key, Linc. I really, really want that key.”
The words fade into the hum of machines, leaving only the sound of my tears and the fragile echo of everything I’ve laid bare.
Then…
“Guess it’s a good thing I had one made for you.”
The voice lands behind me, gruff and familiar, striking through the quiet like a match in the dark.
I spin around, heart slamming into my throat.
Linc stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame like he didn’t just tear the ground out from under me. A strip of gauze sits above his brow, a split along his lip, and that crooked, impossible smirk curves on the good side of his mouth like it never left.
“Oh my god.” The words rush out, tangled with disbelief. I move fast—launching myself into his arms.
He grunts at the impact, his rough laugh falling against my hair as he gathers me close. Strong. Solid. Real.
“Are you okay?” The question breaks from me, muffled against his chest.
“Yeah, I’m good, Goldilocks.” His voice is gruff but edged with that familiar drawl. “A little banged up, but I’m going to be okay.”
Relief floods my chest, my fists tangling in his shirt like I’m afraid he might disappear.
“I thought I lost you,” I whisper, the words catching on a sob. “When Hollis called, I didn’t think—I just got in the car and drove. I had to see you. To tell you I love you. To say I’m sorry for being so damn stubborn yesterday and—”
The rush of words falters, a ripple of confusion breaking through.
“Wait.” I pull back, frowning up at him. “If you’re standing here…” My gaze shifts to the hospital bed where I just spilled my guts out. “Then who the hell is that?”
Linc shrugs, that crooked grin playing across his battered face. “I was wondering the same thing. I was just strolling by when I saw you yakking to a sheet.”
Heat rushes up my neck. I spin on my heel and march over, yanking the curtain open.
Lying there is a man old enough to be Moses, grinning up at me like he just won the lottery.
I scowl, doing my best to reclaim an ounce of dignity. “Why didn’t you stop me?”
“Sweetheart, I haven’t had this much action since The Beatles were still together. I wasn’t about to ruin the moment.”
I blink, caught somewhere between mortified and speechless.
Linc’s laughter breaks first, deep and husky.
I shoot him a glare. “Don’t you dare laugh.” Then I point at old man Skippy. “And you better believe I’m making sure they serve you nothing but oatmeal in this place.”
His gappy grin only widens. “I’ll lick the bowl clean if you’re the one feeding me.”
A groan slips out, but the corner of my mouth betrays me. Well…I guess that nurse’s judgment makes a little more sense now.
Linc’s laughter softens as he reaches for my hand. “Come on, Goldilocks. Let’s take this outside.”
The dirty old man gives one last shameless wave as we leave.
In the waiting room, Mike’s mid-conversation with another officer. His gaze catches mine—first surprise, then understanding. He shakes his head, already piecing together how I found out.
I wince, silently praying Hollis doesn’t catch too much heat.
Linc’s hand tightens on mine as he leads me out of the ER, the world smelling like rain and new beginnings.
For the first time since walking in, I let myself breathe, hopeful for the second chance we almost lost.