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“Right,” I say, imagining Jack sitting beside me in the ambulance, maybe clutching my hand and looking wild-eyed with fear. “I don’t remember any of that. I don’t remember anything at all after you talking to me when I was still in the car.”
“You passed out after that,” says Jack, his brow furrowed. “I was so scared, Emerald. I really thought I was going to lose you. I was going out of my mind.”
He leans forward and presses his forehead against mine. I breathe in the familiar scent of him, luxuriating in the feeling of just being close to him again.
“Does this mean you’ve forgiven me for… well, for everything?” I venture timidly. “Is the break over yet?”
“The ‘break’ should never have happened in the first place,” says Jack fiercely. “None of this should have happened. And I’m so sorry it did, Emerald. I really am.”
“No,I’msorry it happened,” I insist. “It was all my fault. I messed up again. It’s what I do. I just wish I could figure out how to change it.”
“But I don’t want you to change,” Jack says, his eyes very blue in the yellowish light of the hospital room. “I love you exactly as you are. Look, Emerald,” he sighs, “I’m not eloquent enough to say how I feel in the kind of way I know you’d like. But I do love you. More than anything. And I’ll do anything to prove that to you.”
“I don’t need you to do anything,” I tell him, my eyes filling with tears. “I think I’m pretty much done with grand gestures, to be honest. Although, chasing me down in your car was a pretty good one, to be fair.”
He smiles ruefully.
“Maybe without the whole ‘until you crashed into a ditch’ bit, though?”
“Not your fault, remember?”
I’m not sure who made the first move, but somehow we’re holding hands. It feels comfortable and right, and it gives me the courage to go on.
“I don’t need you to do anything,” I say again. “I don’t need us to be Elizabeth and Darcy, or Emma and Knightley, or… or…”
“Ross and Rachel?” suggests Jack. “Carrie and Big?”
“Definitely not Carrie and Big,” I say, shaking my head. “Way too toxic. And Ross and Rachel’s break tookforeverto be over. No, I just need us to beus. That’s all.”
“Emerald and Jack it is, then,” he agrees, the dimples showing in his cheeks. “That’s settled.”
At long last, he leans forward and kisses me. There’s a strong smell of disinfectant in the air, my hospital bed is positioned slightly too high to make things completely comfortable, and I will later realize I’m wearing one of those horrifying hospital gowns that fasten up the back. But it’s still the most perfect kiss imaginable; and, I’m sorry, but nothing’s going to change my mind about that.
“Emerald? Are ye in there?”
On second thoughts…
The door of the room opens with a bang, and Mum and Dad burst in, both looking flustered. Mum’s still wearing the apron she uses to cook in. It has the outline of a busty female body bursting out of a bikini on the front. Dad’s in his slippers, and I can tell just by looking at him that he’s spent most of the drive here wondering if he remembered to lock the front door.
I look at them standing there and immediately burst into tears .
“There, there,” says Mum, rushing forward to hug me. “Dinnae you worry, love. I willnae let them in.”
“Wh… what? Let who in? Are… are they coming to take me away?”
I look at the door, waiting for the men in white coats to burst through it. Instead, though, when it opens again, it’s just Kathryn, Bertie, and Rose who appear.
“We met them in the car park,” says Mum, standing in front of my bed as if she’s planning to use herself as a human shield. “I told them ye’d want yer privacy, but—”
The door opens for the third time — more slowly this time, as Rose is standing right in front of it — and McTavish and his dad insert themselves into the hospital room, each clutching a chunky KitKat and a can of Irn Bru.
I don’t think I’m going to be getting much in the way of ‘privacy’ somehow.
“We came as soon as we heard what had happened,” says Kathryn, looking at Mum defensively. “I tried calling Jack, but he wasn’t answering, so we thought we’d just jump into the car and come and see if we could be any help. We were worried.”
“Aye, right,” says Mum, rolling her eyes. I interrupt swiftly, remembering the tentative truce Kathryn and I brokered in The Crown.
“It’s okay, Mum,” I tell her. “It’s nice that they’re here. Really.”
