Page 102 of The Cruelest Kind of Hate
“I need you to kiss me when I get trapped in my head. I just need you, okay? I can’t do this without you. I can’t dolifewithout you. You’ve shown me what it means to sacrifice for the people you love. You’ve shown me how to be strong for myself so that I can be strong for others. You’ve shown me kindness and understanding in times when I was a complete asshole to you. You’ve waited for me even when I wasn’t ready because you never wanted to leave me alone—because you knew how lost I would be without you.”
No spike in his heart rate. No twitch of his fingers. No nothing. Just stillness. Just silence.
“I was devastated when my mom got sicker. I’d never been at such a low point in my life. But with you, it’s not just devastation. It’s something so exceptionally worse that I can’t put into words what it does to me. I’d rather be dead than live with this feeling—this grief that never seems to run out, this impending fear of losing the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I was so focused on protecting my family that I hadn’t even realizedyou’remy family now.
“I was so scared to give you all the pieces of me because I’ve never surrendered myself wholly to anyone before. I used to be full, unbroken, until the world chipped away at me. Nobody in their right mind wants a bunch of broken pieces. But you haveevery piece of me. You made them into something beautiful, just like you did with the scars on my palms. You never once saw anything wrong with me, and I love you so, so much for it.”
I love him. So much that it doesn’t seem remotely possible for this amount of love to fit into a human body. I knew it all along, but I was too scared to say it out loud. This whole incident reminded me that tomorrow isn’t promised. You need to say the scary things out loud in the unfortunate chance that you may never get to.
I’ve lost all composure, sobbing and crying like a child while I rest my head over Gage’s lethargic heart. It doesn’t bring me the same solace as it usually does. It feels like an unspoken goodbye. A goodbye that I’ll never be ready to utter for as long as I live.
“Oh, God. And I lied about the tattoo,” I weep, printing my face of makeup onto his shirtfront. “I’m a terrible person. It’s fake, okay? I didn’t think telling you would put you in the hospital. Not that it’s, like, a direct result or anything. Or maybe it is. Maybe you were so riled up that you didn’t notice the players coming for you, and now your head is traumatized and it’s all because I pulled a stupid prank on you?—”
“I knew it.”
What? Oh my God. Am I hallucinating? Where did that voice come from?
I suck in a large sniffle and peel myself up to locate the source of the sound, certain that it’s just my delirium conjuring up Gage’s voice, until my gaze lands on the poorly veiled, crooked half-smile painting his lips.
“Gage? Is that…really you?”
He squints open one eye. “I’m not dead, Cali.”
“Oh my God.” I immediately wedge my arms under his body and embrace him, holding him so close to my chest that his back comes off the hospital bed, and a couple of groans escape him.
“Sorry!” I apologize, setting him back down on the firm mattress.
He winces. “’S okay. Grandpa’s just not as springy as he used to be.”
“Oh. Ew.”
“Glad to see you aren’t treating me any differently. Even though I’m hospitalized. And in pain.”
“Do you need me to kiss it better?”
His eyes fully open, but then they lower to half-mast, and he gets that devious grin on his face again. “That depends. Where are you kissing me?”
Aaand I’m starting to feel less sorry for him. “Seriously?”
“Just come here, Spitfire,” he demands impatiently—which is bold given his state right now.
I lean in—wary of keeping my weight off his body—and marry our lips, tasting him for what feels like the first time. Even shrouded in the pungent scent of chemicals, he still smells like petrichor and pine, and my heart comes alive in technicolor starbursts. He doesn’t lift his hand to cup the back of my neck, but he’s warm with renewed life.
He’s okay. My person is okay.
Although I want to bask in this kiss forever, I pull away when I feel tears prick the backs of my eyes. “Are you okay? Is there anything I can do?”
Gage grunts as he hauls himself to a sitting position, the tube of his IV moving in tandem with the arm he lays over his lap. “You’re here, aren’t you? That’s all I need. That’s all I’ll ever need,” he replies, taking my hand in his to calm the shaking I hadn’t realized was occurring. “Plus, I’ve dealt with head trauma before, and I turned out fine.”
“You know, that does explain a lot,” I say.
He angles his head. “Explains what?”
“Explains all the weird shit you do. Maybe a piece of yourskull chipped off and imbedded itself into your brain matter.”
“I happen to think that I’m perfectly normal, thank you very much.”
Of course I can count on Gage to make me laugh after practically coming back from the dead. The resonance of a hearty chuckle cannons into the depressing atmosphere, heralding life like the rosy warmth of a new dawn on the horizon.
