I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up. I wish I could have been, but they wouldn’t let me stay with you. I wanted to be there. I wanted to hold your hand and tell you everything would be okay, but I couldn’t. I’m waitingfor you to wake up, and I’ll be here as long as it takes. I’ll never leave you. I promise. Just rest. I’ll be waiting for you.
Love,
Bash
The words make my chest feel light and bubbly. I press the paper to my chest. My hand trembles as the weight of his words settles in.I’ll never leave you. I promise.
It’s simple. But it’s everything.
A few tears I didn’t know I was holding back slip free. But these aren’t tears born from fear or loneliness. They’re tears of relief, of hope, and a deep, aching love I’m still trying to understand.
When in the world did Bash become my everything?
Deep down, I’ve known I love him for a while, but I didn’t realize just how much until this moment.
The sound of footsteps pulls me out of my thoughts, and I turn my head. Bash is standing in the doorway, his eyes wild with concern. Not only is he still in his fight shorts and missing a shirt, but there’s a bruise forming on his right eye, and his hair is messy and untamed. He walks toward me like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he’s not careful.
I hold up the note. “You could have just texted me.”
He doesn’t laugh or smile, just hesitates at the side of the bed, his gaze locked on mine.
I reach out, and without a word, he takes my hand, his fingers trembling as they wrap around mine. His grip is firm, but there’s a gentleness to it that makes my heart ache. “Please tell me you’re alright.”
I squeeze his hand. “I’m fine. My head hurts a little, but I’m sure it will be better tomorrow.”
He shakes his head, his eyes glassy. “No. You don’t understand. When I saw you in that stretcher after the fight…I thought…I thought you were…” His voice falters. The fear in his eyes is raw and unfiltered. The words hang unfinished between us, but I know what he’s trying to say.
“I’m here,” I whisper. “And I’m completely fine.”
His gaze searches mine. The tension seems to leave his body, just a little. He sits down in the chair beside my bed. “I’m not leaving from this spot until you’re out of here.”
I frown. “What time is it?”
“Midnight.”
“Bash…I’ll be okay. You don’t have to sleep in that chair.”
But he just settles in, ignoring me as if I didn’t speak. He makes a show of getting comfortable, or as comfortable as he can in such a small seat.
I rest my head back and close my eyes.
The hours pass, and if the discomfort of the chair is unbearable, he doesn’t say so. He doesn’t complain. He just stays with me, and I can’t deny his presence is a constant comfort. I drift in and out of sleep, but every time I open my eyes, he’s there with his hooded gaze, holding my hand.
“You’re thinking about something,” he murmurs this time. “What’s going on inside that beautiful head?”
My throat burns with the threat of tears. It’s so stupid. Because even after everything we’ve been through together, I’m still afraid to admit how I feel about him. Every sweet moment with Cole comes to mind, along with my heartbreak when he up and wordlessly left me. Bash and I have already been through more than Cole and I, and I love Bash so much more than I even liked Cole. So how much more will it hurt if things go badly with him?
I lift my head. My skull practically burns away in the process from searing pain. I try to speak, but as soon as the first tear escapes, his brows draw together. “What is it? Are you hurt?”
I shake my head.
“Come here.” He scoots his chair back and stands, sits on the bed beside me, then opens his arms to wrap me in a hug. The warmth from his bare upper body and the citrus smell of him is so comforting, my shoulders relax.
I don’t hesitate, because letting him hold me is a thousand times better than letting him see me cry.
“Whatever it is, you can tell me.” He murmurs the words into my hair, his voice gentler than I’ve ever witnessed, and it pierces right into my heart.
“Doesn’t this scare you?” I ask.
