My response came out as a joke. “It has to be a hundred degrees out here and humid. If you get me a blanket, she’ll use it to kill me when I overheat,” I said, laying on a heavy laugh at the end so they both realized I joked.
“Naw, it’s barely ninety-five today. It’s a cold snap. Once the sun sets, it’ll be downright chilly. You’ll be wishing you had a blanket then,” he responded.
I didn’t want to be anywhere near this place come sundown. As if she sensed my internal desire to get up and leave as quickly as possible, Imogen used a finger to lower the skin around my eye and stared at them before putting my wrist in her hand. I had to assume she was checking my vitals with no equipment since it resembled what she’d done to the man at the truck stop.
“I probably should’ve taken you in,” she said, glancing back at the hospital.
I shook my head even though it made my eyeballs ready to dislodge and roll around like two marbles. “No, this was the right call. I feel better already.” It was only a half lie. I had to be better than I was a moment before I passed out, but my arm was tender, my head hurt, and in some ways, it felt like maybe Imogen pushed me from a moving car and let them run over me. Twice.
“He’s right,” the homeless man said. “That hospital is stingy. All those doctors driving those fancy cars think they’re better than us, but really, they worry about how close they are to this side of the parking lot.”
“So true,” I said, meeting the man’s gaze. How many people who ran in my circles lived their lives in massive amounts of debt? They were always waiting for the next deal to pay off one expenditure before opening another. They were one missed opportunity away from destruction. “I’m Cyrus and this is Imogen.”
He held out his hand, and I shook it. “Hugh. Spelled the same and just as handsome as Hugh Grant, but without the mansion,” he said, making his own joke.
Imogen laughed. “It’s nice to meet you, Hugh.”
“All we need now is a cell phone to call my brother.” Sitting in the park with my arms stitched up, one last bottle of water and no shoes, it sounded like a Herculean task, but that was only because I underestimated the genuine spirit of community the people fostered.
“Shoot, Carl has one. The government gave it to him, so he always lets everybody use it until he runs out of time. Let me go see if I can find him.”
Before I said thank you or told him it was okay, which it really wasn’t, since we actually needed Carl’s cell phone, Hugh was up and walking toward the fountain at the center of the park.
Imogen twisted around and sat beside me, crossing her legs. “That might be the nicest man ever. How can we repay him?” she asked.
Something deep inside me lit up at the fact that she used the word we, as in the two of us, doing something together. It was ridiculous considering we’d only known one another for days, but I enjoyed being a part of a “we” with Imogen.
I watched the older man walk away although in reality I didn’t think he was too much older than my father. Life had just been harder on him. “I’ll send him a check.”
Imogen laughed and leaned up against me, her shoulder against my good one. “Another big Cyrus check saves the day.”
She fell silent, and I turned my head in her direction, taking in the curve of her face. How even after days of trouble, she gave me stitches in a homeless park somewhere in Georgia and still found a way to smile and make a joke. I could spend the rest of my life just looking at her and be happy if she always had the same positive outlook.
“Imogen, beautiful, you saved my life.”
Her smile deepened, and then she turned to look at me as well. Everything about the woman radiated goodness. “You saved mine first.”
My arm ached as I leaned in, but in that moment, nothing could stop me. As if she understood what I planned and was totally on board, Imogen met me halfway. Our lips connected in a soft, sweet kiss. There was only the slightest bit of pressure, but it changed my life.
I breathed in deeply. My heart stopped, wanting to do everything I could to remember the fine details of the moment. Because in that exact second, I realized what I felt for Imogen was love. Possibly what I’d been feeling for days, but I wasn’t ready to recognize it until right then.
One day, our future children would ask when I realized I loved their mother, and I’d have to answer that we were sitting underneath the tree in a park where she had just stitched up a knife wound. Basically, I’d be the coolest father in existence.
We pulled apart, each of us trying to work out what our kiss meant and me trying to decide how to tell Imogen she was the love of my life when Hugh broke up the moment between us by returning.
He handed Imogen a tiny black flip phone, which she then handed to me. “I told Carl you were decent folks, but he’s said I had to stand here and watch while you use it, just so you don’t run off.”
“I appreciate it,” I said, flipping up the top of the phone and dialing Corbin’s number.
“Hello,” the rough voice of my brother had me choking up again.
I open my mouth to respond, but no sound came out, only a labored breath. It felt so good to hear his voice again and know that we were close to safety, but I didn’t know what to say.
“Corbin, it’s me.” I spat out even though the words were hard and desperate sounding.
I wiped water away from my eye and blamed it on the blood loss like Imogen said.
CHAPTER 15
