And then she’s crying.
“Hey.” The word comes out slower than I intend, quieter. My head throbs with each syllable. “Don’t cry. I’m okay.”
My eyes wince against the pain, and I have to pause, gather strength before continuing.
“I’m fine,” I add, though even I can hear how unconvincing it sounds. My voice is barely above a whisper, still scratchy from days of disuse.
“You’re awake.” Tears are streaming down her face. “Oh my God, you’re awake.”
“Yeah.” I close my eyes for a second, the light from the phone screen making my head pound harder. “I’m awake. And I’m okay, I promise.” Another pause to breathe through the pain. “Please don’t cry, Nat.”
“I can’t—I can’t stop. I was so scared. I thought—” She can’t finish the sentence. “Jake, I love you.”
The words hit me like a freight train. “What?”
“I love you. I’m so in love with you and I was so stupid on Valentine’s Day. I panicked and I ran and I’ve been miserable ever since and then Wyatt told me about the accident and I couldn’t get to you and I thought I might never get to tell you—” She’s talking fast, the words tumbling over each other. “I love you. I want to marry you. I want to move in with you. I want everything you were asking for. I want us to be a family,a real family, and I’m so sorry it took me this long to say it but I love you so much?—”
“Nat, breathe.”
She takes a shaky breath, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand.
“I love you too,” I say, and my voice cracks. “God, I love you so much. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“I need you to listen to the doctors,” she says, her voice fierce despite the tears. “I need you to stay as long as they tell you to. Do not play superhero. Do not risk your recovery.”
“Nat—”
“I mean it, Jake. I want you back here whole and healthy, not because you pushed yourself too hard to get to me.” She wipes her eyes. “Promise me you’ll do what they say. Promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”
“I promise,” I say quietly. “But I’m coming home as soon as they clear me. Not a day longer than necessary.”
“That’s all I’m asking.” She smiles through her tears. “Just get better. We’ll be here waiting when you’re ready.”
“Okay.”
Mom and Wyatt are already back in the room, having heard the whole conversation. Mom’s eyes are wet, and even Wyatt looks a little choked up.
“The doctors said at least another day, maybe two,” Mom says gently. “They want to monitor you, make sure the swelling doesn’t come back.”
I look back at the phone, at Natalie’s face on the screen. She’s still crying, but she’s smiling now too.
“I’ll get there as soon as I can,” I tell her. “One or two more days and then I’m on the firstflight home.”
“Okay.” She wipes her eyes again. “Okay. I’ll be waiting.”
“Nat?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you. In case that wasn’t clear.”
“It’s clear. I love you too.” She laughs through her tears. “You should rest,” she says finally. “Let them take care of you.”
After a few more updates, I end the call and hand the phone to Wyatt, as my mom grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze.
“Two days,” I say. “That’s it. After that, I’m out of here whether they like it or not.”
Mom gives me that look that says she’s not going to let me do anything stupid, but she’s also not going to argue right now. “Two days,” she agrees. “And then we get you home to your girls.”
