Page 8 of Entwined Hearts
She just stared at me for a long moment. I knew she was weighing options, wondering what would happen if she did, if she didn’t. Her mind worked twice as hard as everyone else’s just to exist, and while it made her brilliant, it also wore her out.
“It’s just me, angel,” I said softly. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Easy for you to say. You didn’t just watch you almost get trampled by a two-thousand-pound bull. And don’t call me that.”
I wasn’t going to pay attention to her little demand, not while I was the one laid up in a hospital bed. “No, I just narrowly avoided it instead,” I countered.
That brought her closer for whatever reason. She sat in the chair next to my bed, her eyes now level with mine. “There she is.” I smiled. “You’re not a blob anymore.”
At the arena, I couldn’t see her as well as I could now with her so close. She was still the most beautiful thing, just a little older. Her eyes were still that warm, chocolatey brown I was in love with. Except now they were a little bloodshot and tired. I knew that was my fault.
“I’ve missed you,” I whispered. “So much. You have no idea.”
“Weston…” She said my name like it was a warning, but to me, it sounded like salvation. Made me feel just as warm and fuzzy as the morphine did.
“I couldn’t believe it when I looked up and saw you. You said you’d never come to watch me.”
“I should’ve kept that promise,” she said. “You wouldn’t have been distracted.”
“There’s no way to know that.”
She looked down at the ground again, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I hear you have a tattoo now,” she said softly, still avoiding looking at me. “You always hated them.”
“I hated losing you more,” I said. “I wanted something to remember you by.”
She turned away, wiping her face. I wished so badly I could reach her and wipe away those tears. “You shouldn’t say things like that when you’re high off your ass.”
I think that just might’ve been the first time I’d ever heard her curse; she never had when we were together. I started to laugh at the realization, but winced at the pain. “Don’t make me laugh,” I groaned. “It hurts too much.”
She smiled this time. It was her real one, too—wide and bright and life-changing. Almost as if she was relieved to hear my laugh again.
The way she still made my heart race after all this time should’ve been studied. There was no point in hiding it either, my heart monitor was beeping like a goddamn car alarm attached to a neon sign that said:This fool is still in love with you.
And she was looking at it.
“Are you okay? Should I get your nurse?” She stood up, going to do just that. But before she could leave, I took her hand in mine.
“I’m fine, Sav.”
“But your heart?—”
“Races when you smile at me. Yes, I know.”
She froze, her attention going to where our hands were joined. The room was suddenly too quiet, the air too loaded with things left unsaid. Things I’d been dying to say for a decade.
But all I could really focus on was the fact that I was touching her again. I never thought I would, honestly. I spent hours over the last eleven years remembering every moment we shared. Every kiss, every touch, every look. I remembered it all.
And maybe it was the morphine or the fact that it’d been so long, but she felt even better now. She didn’t say anything more about my heart. Just watched as my thumb ran over her knuckles. I wasn’t quite sure if she was breathing or not.
“I still love you, you know.”
She pulled her hand away at that, taking a tentative step back. “You don’t mean that,” she whispered, looking almost like she was relieved but also didn’t want to believe it. Or was afraid to. “You just think that because it’s been so long. Because of everything that happened earlier.”
“Trust me. I do.” I shifted towards her as best I could. “I never stopped loving you, Savannah. I tried. I really did. But nobody compares to you, angel. Nobody understands me the way you do.”
She shook her head quickly, refusing to hear it. “That’s ridiculous. I don’t even know you anymore.” I ignored the sting of her words and reached for her again, but she was just out of my grasp.
“But you could. We can start again. We can be together. For real this time, out in the open. We don’t have to hide anymore.”
