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“Every…where.” His pathetic soft groan breaks my heart into a million more pieces.
“They’ll take good care of you. The doctor is on her way. I don’t want you to talk anymore. Just focus on my voice.” He groans again as his eyes begin to flutter a bit. “That’s it. I’m here. I’m right here.”
“Never. Leave. Wing. Man.” Each word for him was a struggle to find and get out. Those four words reach straight inside my chest, taking hold of my heart.
“No. I won’t. I couldn’t.” Reaching inside the pitcher on Eli’s bedside table, I pull an ice chip into my hand tracing the outline of his lips. He sounds so dry. I don’t know what else to do for him. I want to do everything, anything I can.
His tongue reaches out for each little droplet that melts into his mouth. Once he’s captured them all, he gives me two more words. “Kiss. Me.”
“I need to tell you something first. I need to tell you I’m sorry. I need to tell you I’m a coward, and this is all my fault. I need to tell you that I not only choose you, but I love you too. Do you hear me, Sawyer? I love you.”
“Knew. It,” he sighs. “Kiss. Me.”
The doctor and her staff begin filing in. I don’t care. I’m not going to let this chance slip by me. I delicately put my hand on Elijah’s chest and lean over him to grant his request. The kiss isn’t long, but it’s meaning is full. I love him and now we both know it.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Elijah
I’m having to be reminded of things, simple things, multiple times. Things like where I left my keys, my computer password, and the days of the week are still hard. I can remember everything from my childhood, all my loved ones, and what the forecast projections are for Quarter One next year. It’s all so confusing.
My brain has to work so hard at some things and not at all on others. The hardest part is I’ve called Dylan Tori a couple of times. The words roll out so fast, and I can’t take them back or process them quickly enough. It’s not happened in the last week or so. I hope it doesn't happen again.
She’s taken everything in such a great stride. I could see, even in my earliest fuzzy states, how physically drained she was. She never complained. She spent the first three nights sleeping in the chair next to me until I was pain free enough to insist she move to a cot at least. Dr. Collier helped to find her a fold-out lounge chair. She could at least lie down at night.
Dylan would only leave if someone was with me and was never gone more than two hours at a time. She studied while I slept. She ate when I did. She snuck me in a dessert or two, along with my laptop when I wasn’t supposed to have it yet. I wanted so badly to be able to comfort her in ways we’re used to. I’d hear her whimper in her sleep, and I’d still be too dizzy, or my head would pound enough that I couldn't get up, so I’d sing to her until she settled again.
By the end of week one, I was up taking short walks around the hospital corridors. By midweek two, I was told I could go home if someone would be staying with me. For her, it was never a matter of if she would, it was when she would be able to get the rest of her things.
My parents drive us back to Central Park West after my discharge. Mom wants to make sure I have a fully stocked refrigerator today, a grocery delivery scheduled for next week, and that I’m safe in my bed. My father has other things on his mind. While Mom forces Dylan to sit at the dining table while she brews some tea, my father sits on the end of my bed while I lie back against my headboard.
“I’ve spent two weeks in bed. I’d like a different view please.”
“I know you’re going to do as you please as soon as we leave, so don’t make it hard for your mother. Just stay here for now and she’ll be none the wiser later.”
“Fine, Dad. I’ll stay here.”
“Son, we should talk about Dylan.”
“I was wondering when this would happen. What do you want me to do? Make her quit? Is turning the interns over to Skye enough?”
“Calm down, Eli, it’s nothing like that. You and she have been nothing but professional at the office that I’ve seen. We don’t have a fraternization policy. I would like you to be somewhattransparent with the board at some point, but no, it’s not about that.
“We adore her. She’s your soulmate. Anyone with eyes can see it, which is why you should know this. I know your brain is still foggy at times. I came upon a piece of information. I’m sure she’d rather I said nothing, but Dylan missed her audition last week.”
“Audition?” Then it clicks. My mind has been doing these race things since the accident. It’s like fast rewinds of periods in time. Her performance piece. Her sadness. Her triumph. My pride. Her in my arms. Dylan sleeping against me on the drive to Vermont. Her two fingers up. Her dream audition. “She missed it. How could she miss it?”
“I think she made a choice, Eli.”
“Screw that. She chose wrong. Dad, I need a couple of favors. Will you help me?”
“Eli, I still don’t think this is a good idea. They said not to push yourself.”
“Dylan, I’m not running. I’m not working. I’m not even doing what I’d like to be doing with you. I needed to get out. It feels like spring today. I just wanted to walk around campus. We can take a cab there and back. We can even stop by your loft to check on things and grab your dance bag.”
“Why? I don’t need it right now.”
“I beg to differ.”
