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A sob leaves me, and I turn, wrapping my arms around Law's neck.
"She's okay," I cry. "She's okay."
"She's okay," he says against my neck.
It's then that I realize how tightly he holds me, his arms like bars around my middle, desperately bringing me closer to him. And his desperation is what makes me begin to release him. We can't do this. These moments are gone for us. He took them from us. But God, I'll allow myself to have this one for just another few seconds. I put my forehead to his chest, taking my last little bit of him. And even in my hurt, my anger, I can appreciate that he's here.
"Thank you for coming."
He kisses my forehead and my heart bleeds.
"Never thank me for that."
I look up. I stupidly tilt my face up. He swallows, and his eyes move back and forth between mine, searching, longing. I ask myself what the hell I'm doing. Why I'm torturing myself like this? But still, I leave the opportunity open for him to kiss me. And he takes it. As his lips get closer to mine, I find myself wondering how he'll kiss me this time. Soft and sweet, his lips begging for forgiveness. Or hard and demanding, reminding me of what we've shared in those hotel rooms. He does both.
His lips meet mine, and my eyes close as he kisses me once, twice, three times. Then his hands are on my face while his lipspress harder to mine, his tongue sliding into my mouth. I savor his tongue meeting mine far too much, letting a moan escape me as I fist his shirt, pulling him closer. And that breaks the softness in Law. His hands get harder on my face the moment his kiss turns harsh, rough, his tongue lashing against mine, erection beginning to poke me into my stomach. If the beginning of his kiss told me he misses me, it now tells me how much he wants me again. His hands drift down, to my neck, to my shoulder, and I still. The mark from where he bit me when we last fucked is still there. The mark he gave me before I had to make him leave. Before my heart dropped to the floor.
He knows it's over. His hands disappear, his lips break away from mine as a deep sigh leaves him. I have to force my hands to loosen their grip on his shirt, have to force my feet to take a step back, to put distance between us. His hands ball into fists at his sides and he takes a deep breath before turning away and leaving without a word.
I fall into the seat, relief and pain filling me. How odd.
I bring my fingers to my lips, savoring the memory of his lips against mine.But there's a bitterness there too. Our other kisses have tasted like want, need, lust, desire, even anger. This kiss tastes like goodbye. Goodbye.
Then my phone rings. My eyes shoot to the clock as I get it out of my back pocket. Only Lexa would be calling me this late.
"Hello?"
"Oh my God, I'm breaking at least three laws driving as fast as I am right now!" she shouts. "How is she? Is she done? What's going on?"
"The doctor just came to tell me the surgery is done, and everything went perfectly."
She whoops. "Okay, where is she now?"
"She's in recovery. They haven't come to let me know I could go in yet. Where are you?"
"Like five blocks away now. I don't know if they'll let me in this late, but I'm ready to fight my way in."
"Don't go to her ward. Tell them your sister is in emergency surgery. I'm sure they'll let you in."
"Okay, be there soon."
"I'm in the waiting room."
"Okay."
I hang up and look to the empty seat beside me. No. I can't do this. I won't do this. I will not miss him. I will not wish for him to still be here.
Luckily, my mind doesn't get the chance to spiral too much before Lexa comes into the room. I stand, and she rushes over to hug me.
"I'm so mad I wasn't here. I'm sorry," she says.
"It's okay. I knew you wouldn't be able to look at your phone. And you really must have gone at least sixty the whole way here because you just got off work ten minutes ago."
"I went through four red lights." She laughs.
"Are you two here for Charlotte?" someone asks behind us.
"Yes," we both say as we turn to face her.
