Page 120 of Lessons in Heartbreak

I carefully pushed open the door as I sucked in a fortifying breath. Griffin was asleep in the bed, his chest rising and falling, and I swallowed a small sob at the sight of him so still and quiet. His head was wrapped with white gauze, and there were two butterfly bandages on his eyebrow and cheek. His arm was wrapped, too, held tight to his body in a sling. An oxygen cannula was hooked around his face, wires snaked underneath the hospital gown, and my eyes flew to the screen showing his vitals, the up-and-down lines showing a steady, strong heartbeat.

I wandered closer, my fingers shaking as I pressed them against the monitor and stared at that line until my eyes started blurring. Life was filled with heartbreak. There was no escaping it, no matter how firmly we built up the walls around our life. If something had happened to him before I told him what he meant to me, I never would’ve forgiven myself.

All the protections I’d built up over the years, torn down by this one man. Feeling them fall away was freedom, and I took a deep, cleansing breath while I studied every inch of his face. Tears slid hot down my cheeks as I took a seat in the chair next to the bed and carefully traced the skin over his knuckles.

The veins mapping the back of his hand made him look so strong, so capable. Eyes fixed on his face to make sure I didn’t wake him, I carefully wound my hand around his and lifted his fingers to my mouth, kissing them as softly as he had when he’d done it to me.

Could he feel what I felt in that moment?

If he could, I hoped that it imbued his body with something powerful and sweet, a tenderness that I associated only with him.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered against his skin, my eyes pinching shut while I tried to stem the tide of tears. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. I should’ve come. I shouldn’t have been so scared.”

Resting my forehead against the front of his fingers where they curled around mine, I let myself release all the emotions pressing against my insides. I cried until I felt the pressure valve release, my whole body melting from the tension finally escaping.

“Don’t cry, birdy,” a quiet voice rasped from the bed.

My head snapped up. “Griffin? Are you okay?”

His eyes were still closed, and he licked at dry lips. “Water?”

I stood quickly, striding around the bed to get the Styrofoam cup with a lid and straw, easing the straw to his mouth. He let out a small grunt when he was done, resting his head back on the pillow. I kept the water with me and returned to my seat. Instantly, his hand sought out mine again, sighing when our fingers twined together.

“Do you need me to get a nurse?” I asked.

“No. Stay.” He tightened his hand in mine, finally prying his eyes open enough that I could see they were glossed over with unshed tears. “I just need you.”

I lost it, dropping my head to the bed, unleashing a torrent of shoulder-racking sobs. Griffin made small shushing noises, his hand pulling from mine so he could cup the back of my head while I cried.

“I’m okay, baby,” he whispered. “Look at me.”

Sluggishly, I lifted my head, and when he smiled his crooked smile, I felt my heart tear clean from my chest in the most perfect, miraculous way.

It was his.

Every inch of my body, every ounce of blood running through my veins, whatever I was made of, was his.

“I’m okay,” he repeated, cupping my face tenderly. “My arm hurts like a bitch, and I broke a rib, and I might forget who the president is for a couple days, but I’m going to be fine.” Then he deepened his smile, the dimple popping in his cheek. “Now, will you get into this bed with me so I can hug my girl?”

I let out a choked sob, climbing carefully against his good side. He winced when I shifted too close but wouldn’t hear of anything other than a full-body hug. I placed my arm gingerly across his midsection and sighed when he curled his good arm around my back.

Griffin kissed the top of my head and exhaled heavily. “That’s fucking better.”

I smiled into his chest, then raised my head, setting my chin down so I could look up into his face. “I got your voicemail.”

His eyes searched mine. “Yeah? I didn’t really stop to think about what I was saying. I just ... I wanted to see you. I’ve missed you.”

Absently, I skimmed my thumb along his bottom lip. “I missed you too.”

“Can I ask you something?”

I nodded.

Griffin pulled in a slow breath. “If it were me in this hospital bed for a long time, for something serious,” he said, refusing to drop my gaze, “would it make a difference in how you felt? If that car accident took my legs or my arm, or I was in a wheelchair for the rest of my life. Would you choose to walk away because it made things easier?”

My throat was impossibly tight as I shook my head. “No,” I said, voice trembling.

He slid his hand up my back, cupping my neck in a firm grip. “I don’t care if I have one year or five years or ten, Ruby. I want all of your days. Every single one, because they’re so fucking precious. I will loveyou through every sunrise and every sunset because we’ve already missed too many. Do you understand me? I’m not going anywhere.”

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