Page 152 of Beyond Protection
"That's me."
"Follow me."
My family watched me go.
Eamon lay in the bed with his shoulder bandaged, his arm in a sling, and his eyes open.
He looked terrible. Pale. Drawn. Exhausted.
Despite it all, he also looked perfect.
I crossed to the bed. Pulled a chair close. My legs gave out as I sat.
For a long moment, I stared at him. Taking inventory.
Then I reached for his hand. Held on tight.
"You're alive," I said. "Oh god, you're alive."
"Yeah." His fingers squeezed mine. "I'm alive."
"They said your blood pressure dropped."
"It came back up."
"Eamon—"
"I'm okay, Mac. I'm here. I'm okay."
I brought his hand to my lips. Kissed his knuckles. His palm. His wrist, where his pulse beat steadily.
"I thought I lost you," I whispered against his skin. "When you went down, I thought—"
"I know, but you didn't lose me. The doc said I'm a fighter."
I looked at him. His eyes were clear despite winces from pain.
I leaned forward and let myself break. Tears came hot and fast. All the terror I'd been holding flooded out.
Eamon's free hand touched my hair. Gentle. Grounding.
"I'm here," he said softly. "I'm right here."
I stayed like that until I could breathe again. Until the tears slowed, and I could look at him without my vision blurring.
"New rule," I said, voice wrecked. "When you get out of here, I'm taking care of you. That's the deal."
"Deal," he said. "But Mac—"
"What?"
"You've been taking care of me all along. You just didn't realize it." His thumb brushed my cheek. "You taught me it was safe to move again. Safe to try. That's care."
"I love you," I said.
"Love you too." His voice was soft. Certain. "And I'm not going anywhere."
The machines beeped. The hospital breathed around us.
