“Jesse.” She thinks really hard, as if she’s not sure she should say what she wants to. “Your mum in Spain. Second chance?”
I smile sadly. “You really do know everything now,” I whisper. “Are you leaving me?” She doesn’t answer, and I stare at the ceiling, waiting. Hoping. Could I blame her? No. Could I stop her? No.
“Look at me.”
Fuck, I don’t know if I can. I feel my eyes welling up, my throat closing. It’s going to really hurt if I let my emotions out. But everyone knows the more you try to suppress a good cry, the more body-wracking it’ll be when you let it claim you.
Facing her, I let go, struggling to see her past the blur.
“Unbreakable,” she says, the word shaky but resolute, and I exhale my gratitude, the pain suddenly bearable.
“Hold me.” She’s seen me at my absolute worst, and now my weakest. No man wants to show their vulnerability. I don’t plan on making a habit of it, but the reassurance radiating off her is fuel to my broken body.
She comes to me carefully, awkwardly trying to position herself around me. “Jesse, be careful.”
“It hurts more if I’m not touching you.” I tilt her face up to mine and study her, letting her touch me, feel me.
“I love you,” she whispers, pushing her mouth to my dry lips.
“I’m glad.” So glad.
“Don’t say that. I don’t want you to say that.”
Why does this anger her? “But I am.”
“That’s not what you usually say,” she protests, feeling my hair, then pulling it.
Oh, I see. I smile to myself. “Tell me you love me.”
“I love you,” she replies quickly.
“I know.” I instigate the next kiss, riding the pain while trying to hide my discomfort. It’s probably the feeblest kiss I’ve ever given her.
“I’m getting the nurse now. You need some painkillers.”
“I need you. You’re my cure.”
“Then why are you still tensing and hissing in discomfort?” she asks, holding my face.
“Because it fucking hurts.” Get me those painkillers pronto.
She smiles, stealing one more kiss, and gets up off the bed carefully. And I feel... light. So fucking light. It’s not your time yet, Jesse. Because I have a job to do here.
I watch Ava as she faffs around my bed, fixing the sheets. “What are you smiling about?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
“You’re going to love this, aren’t you?” I say, lifting my head so she can plump my pillow.
“I have the power,” she whispers playfully as I grimace.
“Don’t get used to it.”
“Oh,” the nurse sings when she whirls in. “Oh my.” Going to the monitor beside my bed, she presses a few buttons. “Welcome back, Jesse.”
“Thanks,” I grumble, bracing myself for the onslaught of poking.
“Feeling groggy?”