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She stands above him, her tears falling on his face, and tells him how much she loves him and how thankful she is that he is still here with her.
She begs him to fight.
We spend the night in the waiting room. I stay until Jay’s brother and sister and Carla’s mother arrive.
I stay until the doctor gives us another update.
No change.
I drive back to Balsam Ridge alone with nothing but my thoughts and sorrow to keep me company.
Maxi sent me several messages last night. Words that I know were hard for her to type.
Confessions of feelings and apologies.
She poured her heart into those texts.
I didn’t respond. Not because I didn’t have anything to say, but because there is too much to say.
I drive as fast as I can to get home.
Home to her.
Maxi
Icalled into work the past two days.
I can’t focus on anything at the moment, but Corbin. The fact that it could have been his funeral that was being planned. The fact that he could have been the one lying in the hospital with no guarantee he’d ever recover.
I haven’t eaten. I haven’t slept. Instead, I’ve been writing him and pouring my broken heart out to him. I explained about my father. How I’d loved him and wanted him to love me. I told him all the horrors my mother and us girls had endured at his hands. I wrote to him of things I’d never told another soul.
I admitted my feelings for him and confessed the depth of my fears.
I don’t know if he’s getting any of the messages. I’m sure his phone is off or that he’s not getting any signal at the hospital. He doesn’t respond, but I keep sending them anyway.
Please love me. Even the broken parts of me.
I hit Send one last time, and then I roll over and click on the television, seeking the comfort of a murder show when there is a knock at the door.
Erin and Sara-Beth have been checking in. I keep telling them I’m fine, but they need to see my face.
I pad over to the door and open it.
Corbin.
He stands before me with a first aid kit in hand.
I burst into tears as he hands it to me, and he steps inside and wraps me in his arms.
“It’s okay,” he whispers in my hair.
I fist his shirt and pull him closer. I need to kiss him. To feel his skin and to absorb his energy and feel his heartbeat.
My body starts trembling with need as he closes the door behind him and walks us to the couch.
His hands are in my hair, and his mouth crashes into mine. This kiss is different than all the others we’ve shared.
It’s desperate and all-consuming.
