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I couldn’t remember the last time the six of us had sat around a table and eaten breakfast together. Not since I was a kid.
But it was real nice.
My siblings and I didn’t always agree, but all our differences aside, I knew they loved me. And Jeremiah. They loved him too.
It bolstered me, gave me strength to get through the next few days. I knew they’d be tough. Tougher for Jeremiah still.
I managed to eat something and I choked down a terrible cafeteria coffee, but I needed to get back to him. Everyone hugged me and they waited until I was the one to walk away.
And holy hell, walking back into that awful ICU was frightening.
All those machines and the terrible smell of sickness and mortality... I was glad when Jeremiah’s nurse pulled the curtain around, blocking it all out.
Just me and him.
I sat beside his bed and took his hand.
His eyes were closed, he looked peaceful. The wires and sticky pads stuck all over his chest were a reminder that his peacefulness was chemically induced. The morbid patterns on his pale skin were fascinating and beautiful and terrible.
His thumb stroked my finger, and I looked up to find him watching me.
“Are you perving on me?” I asked.
He smiled. “Yes.”
“Just as well.” I stood up and kissed his forehead. “I missed you.”
He huffed out a quiet laugh. “Missed you too.”
I sat back down, his hand in both of mine. “My family all said to say hi and that they love you, and they want you to rest and get better.”
He stared at me.
“All of them,” I added. “They were all here. Even Rowan and Zoe. They came for you.”
He gave a slight shake of his head. “They came for you.”
“They came for you, Jem. Mum’s been here almost as much as me. Dad had some stuff to take care of at work but he came straight back. Ellis has been doing the rounds, keeping everyone up to date, and he’s been an absolute rock. Well, as much as a nut sac can be an absolute rock.”
Jeremiah snorted quietly.
“They love you,” I said. “Like I love you.”
His fingers squeezed mine. “Like I love you,” he whispered.
I met his gaze, and he met mine right back. No looking away, no blushing, no eye-rolling.
“I don’t know why I was so scared to say it,” he murmured. “I thought it was foolish and unnecessary. I was wrong.”
I kissed his knuckles, then I stood up and kissed his cheek, his eyebrow, his nose, his lips.
“I should have told you every day,” he whispered.
“You can. Starting today. I’ll make up another chart and we can add gold stars for every time you say it.”
He smiled for a moment; then it faded. His eyes filled with sadness and regret. “I thought I was going to die,” he whispered. “And you being here kept me here, I’m sure of it. Kept me tethered here. Knowing you were here. Knowing you loved me.” He shook his head, his eyes full of tears. “I had to tell you. You needed to hear it, and I’m sorry I was a fool before.”
I swallowed back my tears. “I’m trying to not cry anymore today, and you’re not helping.” I sat on his bed and tried to give him a hug, but it was awkward, so I lay my head on his chest instead. “I want to hear your heart,” I mumbled. “I want to hear it strong and forever.”
