“It wasn’t you I needed space from. It was myself. It’s always myself.”
“Can relate.” Tanner throws a phrase he’s picked up from me right back in my face.
I laugh, and it feels good. “I really do love you. And it doesn’t scare me anymore. I didn’t even need you to say it back to know that.”
Tanner takes my hand from his face. He twines it with his and I gaze at our tangled fingers like I have so many times before. That feels good too, but it’s different, perhaps because I’ve had to face a reality when the fingers wrapped around mine were cold and blue, and the breaths in his chest were raspy and shallow, not deep and soothing like they are now. I’m never going to take this feeling for granted. He is my most precious thing.
“So…” Tanner says after a few beats of silence. “I talked to a shrink yesterday.”
“You did? When?”
“After they tried to make me eat the worst grilled cheese in the history of grilled cheese.” Tanner shivers. “Apparently my insurance covers therapy after near-death experiences. Ironic, huh? They sure didn’t give a shit when I was actually sick enough to need it.”
“Are you going to have it? The therapy?”
“Yes.” There’s zero hesitation as Tanner speaks. “I don’t think I need it because of what happened out there this time—if anything, that bang on the head has brought me back to life—but there’s a lot of old shit floating around that I need to deal with, so I’m gonna deal with it, and who the fuck knows? Maybe next time we’re out on those trails, we’ll be out there together.”
The thought fills me with more hope than I’ve ever dared dream. I’ve thought of Tanner every day out on those trails since I learned the connection between him and Vermont’s sacred wilderness. I’ve dreamed of treading the earth together. Of watching the seasons change with him at my side. “That would be fucking amazing, but more than that, I want you to be well, in every sense, so if there’s anything I can do to help you, you’ve gotta let me.”
“Back atcha, sunshine.”
“Are we making some kind of deal on our future happiness?”
“Maybe. Ask me when I’m not stoned on whatever sorcery they put in my IV.”
I have no idea what’s in Tanner’s IV. Gabriel asks the doctors the questions and listens to the answers. I watch Tanner. And listen. And wait. But I’m not waiting anymore, he’s right here and smiling, and, apparently, hungry.
Another first. I leave him for as long as I can stand and fetch him a bagel filled with cream cheese. He eats like a starving man. Then his grin grows wider and the color in his cheeks deepens.
A doctor comes to talk to him. The details pass me by until the young resident speaks the magic words. “We can start talking about your discharge tomorrow.”
Tanner gives me a long, piercing look. It’s warm and penetrating, and I see the cogs of his brain turning as he formulates his response.
He shifts his attention back to the doctor and gives her a firm shake of his head. “Fuck that. I’m going home today.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Tanner
Evidently, I’m pretty persuasive. Who knew? I can’t stand up without wobbling like a drunk person, but the doctor comes back that afternoon and signs me out. I’m going home. At least, I think I am, but Jax doesn’t drive my car to V and V. He takes me to the parking lot by his apartment instead. “Your brother told me to. He said you’d be cleaning glasses by the weekend if I took you to the bar.”
“How would I do that, when I can’t walk in a straight line?”
“I don’t know, mate. But I believe him.”
I grunt, but I’m not all that annoyed. I’ve come to realize that I only really like my apartment when Jax is in it, and his place is basically one room, so even if I can’t get up, he’ll never be far away from me.
He takes the win and parks the car. The doors open and shut before I can blink and he’s right there. “Come on.”
“What?”
He rolls his eyes. “I know you only let Gabriel help you to the car because he’s your brother, but if you want to actually come home with me, you’re gonna have to letmehelp you.”
“Thanks, but I’d rather stay here forever.”
“I’m glad the concussion gave you a sense of humor. Now give me your good arm.”
“Are you saying I wasn’t funny before?”
