The relief hits so hard that my knees almost give out.
“Hey,” I say, keeping my voice steady because if I don’t, I’ll lose it.
She looks up, eyes glassy but clear. “Hey.”
I stop a few feet away, hands clenched at my sides, like I don’t trust myself not to crush her if I touch her too fast.
“You okay?” I ask, even though the answer is right in front of me.
She nods. “Yeah. I’m okay. Just a little bump and cut on my head. They have to keep me for concussion protocol though.” Her voice is scratchy.
I exhale, slow and controlled, then step closer and take her hand in mine. I lean down and rest my forehead against hers. She’s warm. Real.
“Fuck me, that was a scary call to get,” I admit quietly.
She whispers, “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” I say immediately. “It was an accident.”
We stay like that until the nurse slips out and the door clicks shut behind her.
That’s when the silence hangs.
The heavy kind. So, I pull back and sit on the side of the bed.
“I started to have a panic attack,” she says.
I nod. “Okay.”
“Before the tornado. I was thinking about us.”
A panic attack at the thought of being married to me is not a good sign.
“What about us?” I practically whisper, not knowing if I want to hear the truth.
Her breath stutters. There it is. The truth finally stepping into the room. “I didn’t intend on filing the annulment papers. I wouldn’t,” she says quickly. “I swear.”
“I know,” I tell her. “Deep down, I didn’t think you would.”
“But …” She lets out a shaky breath.
“But I left anyway,” I finish gently.
She nods, eyes dropping to her hands. “I think my dad just needed to know I wasn’t trapped. That I had a choice in my future.”
That one hurts. I won’t pretend it doesn’t. But hurt isn’t the same as anger.
“I never want you to feel trapped,” I say.
“And I don’t,” she admits. “But we can’t deny that life is moving fast here. There’s a possibility that things could get hard for us.”
I scoot closer to her. “I have no doubt they will, but just because things get hard doesn’t mean we’ll fall apart,” I say. “But I think we need to build a foundation on truth.”
She looks up at that.
“Truth about what?” she whispers.
Now is the right time.
