Page 21 of The Choices I've Made
My attention returned to the man next to me—my fiancé, who’d just come out of surgery and who would spend the rest of his life without the use of one of his arms.
“Well, thank you for assuring me that he was well taken care of. I appreciate it.”
All my focus shifted back to Dean. My hand rested atop his as Jake moved closer. I could feel the heat of him, smell the smoke that still clung to his skin.
“Mols, I—”
I simply shook my head. “No,” I whispered. “Not here, not now, Jake.”
Not ever, I failed to say.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” he said, stepping away from the bed where Dean lay still. “Congratulations by the way. In the short time we spent together, I could see he was happy. I’m sure you had something to do with that.”
I turned, seeing his tall frame hovering by the door. The light from above seemed to highlight every cut and scrape on his body, reminding me of how close they’d both been to death.
“Thank you,” I said, unable to meet his intense gaze.
As I turned back toward Dean, I heard the door click closed.
The sound of it was like the cracking of a dam in my rigid demeanor.
I hunched over my fiancé and wept.
Wept in thanks to God above for saving him.
Wept for the loss of his independence and all it would mean for the future.
And as selfish as it was, I wept for Jake…and all that could have been.
