That was laughable now, because her life was exceptionally normal. Courtney was right—she’d fed the beast of the media machine, and then it had gone on to greener pastures. And yet, she wasn’t happy, because all the normal in the world didn’t fill the void Mach left behind.
She missed him so much she couldn’t catch her breath sometimes. So she picked up extra shifts at the hospital, hung out with Patrice and Renata, scheduled a trip to visit her family in South Dakota and spend time with her niece.
He left afterLately, Laterand that was that. She flew back on her own, and kept her nose out of all things Dimefront. Though the other Dimefront women weren’t so keen to let her go back to her regularly scheduled life. When they all got back to Denver they insisted on staying in touch. And Tanner, too. That was an odd one because he kept calling, insisted the only way he’d stop bugging her was if she agreed to a meet. This was great and all, but Darla needed to get home. That frozen burrito wouldn’t microwave itself. Still, she was headed to Brothers’ Garage after work. Theonlyreason was to ensure Tanner knew she was alive and living her life, not because she wanted to know how Mach was or what he was doing.
The nurses’ station was located near one side of the hallway, allowing them to keep an eye on all rooms from a central location. The hallways were wide enough to fit two gurneys side by side, and windows lined one side of each corridor, letting in light when people were often in their darkest places.
She hustled to exam five with the discharge papers in her grip. Taking a deep breath, she checked the notes. Then before stepping into the room, she did three pumps of hand sanitizer, knocked quickly, and peeked in.
"Ready to go home?" she asked, pulling back the curtain.
A gurney was at the center of the space, with white sheets tucked in tight and a small pillow at the head. On either side of the bed were machines with digital screens that displayed heart rate readings and oxygen levels.
There was no patient in the room, and no puncture wound in sight. Only Mach, sitting in the chair off to the side. Lounging like he was supposed to be there. His hands in the pockets of his jeans, his hair slicked back, and his beard freshly trimmed. The man she’d tried so hard not to fixate on, sitting right there in front of her.
The sight of him was a kick in the stomach and a giant hug she didn’t realize she needed, all happening at the same time.
"Are you okay?" Darla asked, scanning the paperwork the clerk had passed her. Bogus paperwork, it seemed.
"I guess that depends on how this goes," he said, and he was a little paler than normal.
"You’re not feeling well?" She set down the papers and started toward him to check his vitals.
"I never had stability," Mach said, standing and essentially stopping her forward momentum. "You need to know that. I was a hard kid to love, and I got passed from family to family so much I started to believe it was all my fault. It being everything."
"Mach?" She glanced between him and the rest of the room. None of this made any sense.
"I didn’t tell you this stuff because I don’t like to think about it," he said before keeping on, "I was one of those foster kids who didn’t have it as bad as others." He paused, thought about that. "My story wasn’t that bad. Parents passed away. No family. That was just my life. It’s all I knew. Until Dan, I never really had someone give a shit, you know?"
Darla shook her head because this was not her place. "Mach, I… I don’t know why—"
"I need to tell you," he said through what seemed like a whole heaping amount of pain. "Will you stick around long enough to hear it?"
He pulled his lips in like he was hoping she’d give him good news and stay.
She’d do anything for him, so she nodded and stayed right where she was. "Okay."
He came closer, but he didn’t touch her. He sat on the foot of the gurney and folded his hands in his lap.
"I had a shot at a family once," he said. "It didn’t stick, and, uh, knowing you aren’t good enough to keep the people you love? That they’ll take off? That shit hurts."
She nodded, encouraging him along.
"It’s hard to care about a kid when they’ve got every wall up they could build over all those years," he said. "That’s what Dan told me, anyway."
"He cares about you," Darla said on a whisper.
Mach nodded. "I came to him when everyone else counted me out."
"Why are you telling me all of this?" Darla asked. "You made it clear it won’t work for us."
"Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I made a mistake because I figured it’d hurt less if we ended it before we got in too deep." He paused, swallowed hard. Gripped and ungripped his hands. "But, Gorgeous, I realized too late that I am already in too deep."
Oh, okay…
"I would like to give us a solid try. If you’re willing," he said, his voice strong but his expression gentle. "If you’ve got to go save the world, then I’ll wait. And I’ll be right here when you’re ready for me."
She would not cry.Not going to cry. Not going to cry.
