Page 80 of The Love Comeback
But then I remember Kade on the ice, still and vulnerable. I remember Colton asking why Kade couldn’t be his dad. I remember my own voice in the ambulance bay, whispering those three words I’ve been too afraid to acknowledge, even to myself.
I take a deep breath and open the door.
The room is dimly lit, the only illumination coming from a small lamp in the corner and the glow of monitors surrounding the bed. Their rhythmic beeping fills the silence—a steady reminder that Kade’s heart is still beating, that he’s still here.
And then I see him.
He lies motionless, his large frame making the hospital bed seem small. There’s a bruise along his temple, purple and angry. Tubes and wires connect him to machines, measuring things I can’t see.
He looks so vulnerable. So human. So far from the invincible goalie who stops pucks traveling at impossible speeds.
I approach slowly, my footsteps muffled on the linoleum floor. His eyes are closed, his breathing deep and regular. Asleep or unconscious, I’m not sure which.
A chair sits beside the bed, and I lower myself into it, never taking my eyes off his face. While he sleeps, the years seem to fall away. I can almost see the boy I loved at seventeen—the one with bright eyes and big dreams who made me feel like anything was possible.
Before I can stop myself, I reach for his hand. It’s warm and solid in mine, his fingers limp but alive. I run my thumb over his knuckles, tracing the familiar contours of a hand I once knew as well as my own.
“Kade,” I whisper, my voice barely audible above the machines. “I’m here.”
He doesn’t stir, and somehow, that makes it easier. The words I’ve been holding back for so long—the ones I couldn’t say when he was looking at me with those earnest eyes—begin to spill out in the safety of his unconsciousness.
“I was so scared when I saw you on the ice,” I admit, tears welling up despite my efforts to contain them. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so terrified in my life.”
A tear slips down my cheek, and I brush it away.
“I realized then how I’ve been letting fear control me for too long,” I continue, my voice growing stronger. “After losing Katie, after Landon walked out on us, I built these walls around my heart. I convinced myself that I was protecting Colton, but the truth is, I was protecting myself. I was so afraid of being hurt again that I wouldn’t let myself take a chance on you. On us.”
The monitors beep steadily, a metronomic backdrop to my confession.
“But seeing you hurt made me realize that life is too short for that kind of fear. We don’t know how much time we have. And I don’t want to waste another minute pretending I don’t care about you when I do. So much.”
I squeeze his hand, willing him to hear me somehow, even in deep slumber.
“When Landon left, it wasn’t just Colton who felt abandoned. I did, too. And I think part of me has been waiting for you to leave again. To choose something else over me, just like you did before.” My voice catches. “But you haven’t. You’ve been right here, showing up for Colton, showing up for me, even when I pushed you away.”
Another tear falls, landing on our joined hands.
“The truth is, I’ve been unfair to you,” I admit. “I never gave you a chance to explain yourself all those years ago. I just ran. I was hurt and angry, and it was easier to hate you than to hear you out. Easier to blame you for everything than to admit I played a part, too.”
I take a shaky breath, gathering courage for the words that matter most.
“I love you, Kade. I don’t think I ever stopped loving you. Even all these years we were apart, there was always this Kade-shaped hole in my heart that no one else could fill.”
The moment the words leave my lips, something changes. Kade’s fingers twitch in mine, then slowly, deliberately, curl around my hand.
My breath catches, and I look up to find his eyes open—those amber eyes I’ve dreamed about for a decade now looking at me with unmistakable clarity despite his condition.
“Kade?” I whisper, my heart skipping.
His lips curve into a smile. “I heard you,” he says, his voice raspy. “Every word.”
Heat floods my cheeks. “How long have you been awake?”
“Long enough.” His thumb strokes the back of my hand. “Say it again.”
I swallow hard, but there’s no going back now. No more hiding. “I love you, Kade Santos.”
“I love you, Ella Smart,” he says, the words coming out with such conviction, such certainty, that I can’t doubt their truth. “I never stopped. Not for a single day.”
