“It’s a goodbye kiss. I’m not giving you—”
“I promise, it’s not a goodbye kiss. Just a kiss. Please.”
I lean forward and kiss him, my lips trembling against his. They softly part, welcoming mine, but soon they stop moving, and when Ipull back, he’s still awake, but barely. He’s looking up at the ceiling, his eyes distant.
“At least I’m the best version of myself,” he mumbles.
“You are,” I say, choking up. “You’ve always been. You’re one of the best people I know, Rafael.”
I hear the distant wail of ambulance sirens and feel a surge of relief, but when I look down at him, his eyes are closed. I shake him, but he doesn’t respond. “No, no, no.”
I lean the side of my face against his chest but I can’t feel any movement, and then someone’s pulling me away from behind.
I fight, desperate to stay with Rafael, but then I realize it’s the paramedics. They’re here, they’re going to save him, and I watch as they try to reanimate him, my heart breaking with every second that passes. I’m crying and screaming at whoever’s holding me to let me go, because all I can think about is that I didn’t tell him the one thing he wanted to hear. That I love him.
“I’m sorry,” I wail, my voice raw. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please,” I repeat, as I’m taken out of the room, my world collapsing around me.
the happily ever after[trope]
the quintessential rom-com finish line, where all misunderstandings, love triangles, and career dilemmas magically resolve; usually accompanied by a sweeping kiss, a slow fade to sparkly sunsets, and the promise that these two will never argue over Netflix shows or who left the milk out
I look over at Rafael, the steady rhythm of his breathing the only sound in the sterile hospital room. His head is bandaged, a stark white wrap against his dark hair, and his shoulder is covered, too, the dressing stained slightly. The machines beside him beep softly, a strange comfort that tells me he’s still here, still fighting.
I sink back into the chair, my fingers trembling as I trace the tattoo on his left arm, the way I’ve been doing without pause for the last three days.
A quiet sob bubbles up in my chest, and I press the back of my hand to my mouth, trying to keep it in. I hate seeing him like this—battered, vulnerable, almost lifeless in the bed. It’s been three days, and it keeps hitting me just as hard. Under the dim hospital lights, he looks like a boy who’s been through too much.
“I’m sorry.” I’m not even sure why I’m apologizing, but I keep doing it. Maybe it’s because I wasn’t there for him when hewasa boy going through too much, because I don’t know how to make the past disappear for him. Maybe it’s because I’m scared—scared of losing him, scared of not knowing if he’ll ever wake up.
Maybe it’s because it feels like I put him there.
I lean forward, resting my head on his stomach, my hand still brushing his side. “Just come back,” I whisper. “Please.”
“Hey,” Paige says as she enters the room. With a glance at Rafael, she sighs. “Nothing new?”
I shake my head. The doctors said he suffered a traumatic head injury, and they’re pretty confident he’ll wake up once the swelling heals, but they can’t say for sure. Nor can they say how much damage there’ll be.
“He looks peaceful,” she says as she stands at my side, then pulls some of my hair back. “Much better than you, for sure. When’s the last time you took a shower?”
“Uh… two days ago.”
“You really want him to wake up and find you like this?”
Though there’s a humorous undertone to her voice, I don’t bother forcing a smile out.
“He’ll wake up, Scarlett.”
I squeeze her hand when she gently grips my shoulder.
“But you really should take a shower. Eat something.” She purses her lips. “Ethan said he’s coming over after school. Maybe he couldtake your place for a couple of hours? Just enough for you to have lunch. Wash your hair.”
“Is everything okay with him?” I ask, eyes still stuck to Rafael. His chest rising and falling is the only thing that’s keeping me from breaking down. I need it to keep rising and falling.
“Yeah. Your grandparents dropped off all his stuff, and we’ve been working on his bedroom.”
We’ve been in constant communication, and he comes to the hospital every afternoon. Still, I know this is unfair to him, too.Iwas supposed to be doing all that with him, not Paige. “But he’s okay?”
“Trust me, he is. He’s enjoying his alone time with Jaceplenty. Right now, you need to think of yourself a little.”
