We’ve loved.
We’ve lost.
And now we’re just finding our footing again. Us again. And it’s never felt so good to lose myself in someone so I can find myself again.
“You sure you’re okay?”
I feel his weight on the bed as he sits down next to me, his cologne momentarily masking the antiseptic smell the cleaning crew left behind. “Mmm-hmm. I’m just tired,” I tell him as I roll on my side so I can look at him. “Thank you for this afternoon,” I say, thinking about our time on the beach. Our conversation, our food from the deli reminiscent of our first date, and of the silence between us that isn’t so lonely or pained any more. “Are you okay?” I ask the same question back to him.
He pets Baxter on the head and leans down to press a tender kiss to my lips, and it’s not lost on me that he never answers the question. “I’m gonna go do some work for a bit,” he says as he rises from the bed. “You sure you’ll be okay?”
“I’m fine, Colton. I’m just going to go to sleep.” I squeeze his hand as he turns to walk out of the bedroom. “Hey, do you know where my phone is so I can let Haddie know I’m all right?”
He walks over to the dresser and brings it to me, pressing another kiss to my forehead and then my nose before walking out of the room. I watch him leave knowing the sight of him will never get old. I will never take it for granted since it has taken so much work for us to get to this point.
I power on my phone, surprised it has any battery left since it’s been here since the night everything happened. It turns on and I shake my head at the endless texts of well-wishes. I read a few about the ground breaking ceremony we have coming up to commemorate the new project beginning. And then my last text completely throws me.
Knocks the wind out of me, and steals my heart.
It’s from Colton and I don’t think words from him have ever been so honest or the depths of his despair so raw.
I’m lost here. You’re somewhere in this damn hospital and I need to talk to you. Fucking touch you. Something to you because I’m scared as fuck … so I’m going to tell you the way I know you’ll hear me. Broken by Lifehouse.
And the tears come now. They fall freely down my face and I don’t try to stop them or hide them because no one is here to see them now. And because they are tears of joy.
He loves me.
“You going to sit out here and drown your fucking sorrows all night like a whiny little bitch or what?”
The voice coming from the pitch black night scares the shit out of me. “Fucking Christ, Becks!” I bark as I turn to see him walking down the side of the house. “What the fuck, dude? You ever heard of the front door?”
“Yeah, well, you ever heard of answering your fucking cell phone? Besides, knocking’s for friends and I’m fucking family so quit your bitching.”
“I’ve been in the hospital more than enough over the past two months, a heart attack’s not part of my fucking game plan.” I take a long tug on the beer, my head finally becoming fuzzy enough that when I think of Rylee, the image of her cold, covered in fucking blood, and unresponsive isn’t what comes to mind first.
“Well, what is part of the game plan then?” he asks as he opens the beer he’s pulled out of the fridge, that fucking smirk on his face telling me he has a point and fuck me, I don’t need any more points or advice or fucking anything right now.
“Really, make yourself at home,” I tell him. “Steal my beer.”
“Nah, just borrowing it,” he says as he plops down in the chair beside me and we sit in silence, trying to gauge the other’s mood. “We didn’t get a chance to talk much at the hospital.”
“Yeah? Well, I had more important things on my mind than shooting the shit with you.” And fuck if I’m not being an asshole. I needed him there too, but I’m not real comfortable with where the fuck he’s going with this. I feel a Becks’ dress down coming. Fuck!
“She asleep?” he asks, lifting his chin up toward the second story.
“It’s past midnight, what do you think?”
“Don’t be such an asshole. Look, you’ve been handed a lot of fucking shit to deal with and—”
“Butt the fuck out, Becks. Let me just drink my goddamn beer in peace.” I toss my empty bottle toward the trash can and fucking miss. I must be drunker than I thought. Fuckin’ A.
“No can do, brother.” He sighs as I mutter fucker under my breath which garners a drawn out chuckle from him. “You’ve fucked this up one too many times so I’m here to help.”
“Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out, sweetheart.” I just want to be left the fuck alone. Me, my beer, my dog, and my fucking peace.
“Nice try but you’re stuck with me. Kind of like herpes, only better.”
What the fuck? “Dude, did you just actually compare yourself to fucking herpes?” I lean my head back and look at the stars in the sky before angling it over to stare at him and shake my head. “Because at least with herpes, my dick gets serviced first. With you, it’s more like being bent without any fucking lube.”
He laughs that laugh of his that tugs a smile up at the corner of my mouth. The stubborn fucker is getting to me when all I want is to be left the fuck alone.
“Well at least it’s nice to know you’ll let me in somehow,” he says, winking and staring at me until I can’t take it. I let out the laugh I’ve been holding in.