Page 48 of Sweet Heart

She brushes another strand of hair behind my ear while I stare at her. The words slowly drip in and settle into me as the newfound truth they are. This pain is not weakness. It only means I care deeply. And in my line of work, that might just be my strongest asset.

My breathing settles, and I allow myself to melt back into her. Mary tightens her hold and adjusts slightly so that we are both comfortable. She plays with my hair while I count the beats of her heart. Thump-thump. A soft sigh escapes her. Thump-thump. Her fingers scratch my scalp. Thump-thump. She hums softly, the sound reverberating deep inside her chest.

Although we are quiet, the silence isn’t heavy. There is no pressure for me to talk, no expectation that I explain myself. She just holds me—and I let her. Only Carmen and my mother have seen me break down like this, and I couldn’t tolerate either of them in those moments. But with Mary, I don’t feel the need to lash out. No. I feel the need for more closeness. For that connection that seems to pulse between us, even though neither of us has named it yet. The thread that keeps pulling me back to her, that made her give me another chance. A bond that, despite everything that has happened, feels… calm.

“I knew she wouldn’t make it from the moment they brought her in,” I say, my voice like gravel. “But she was so small, so… fragile.”

My eyes flick up to Mary’s face. She is very still. Her gaze rests on me, and her head is slightly tilted as she listens. This side of her is so different from her usual bubbly personality, but it feels just as sincere. I curl my fingers a bit more into the fabric of her shirt to steady myself, and I take a deep breath.

“If we opened her up two minutes earlier, she might have had a chance. Her heart would still have been beating. She… she…”

I choke on the words as tears begin to flood my vision.

“She still would have died.”

My head snaps up at the certainty in her voice. How can she know? She wasn’t even there. How could she say such a thing? But Mary looks at me with such warmth that I am shocked by the contrast. She smiles sadly and runs her thumb over my cheekbone.

“You just told me that you knew it from the moment they brought her in. Still, you refused to give up on this girl because that is who you are. Persistent, driven, talented.”

She pauses for a moment to look at me. My throat feels constricted, and I can barely swallow around the lump caught there. My lips are parted, but I can’t speak, so I just nod. A faint crease appears between her eyebrows before she nods slightly, too.

“But you are not a miracle worker, Cat. And not giving up is something different from blaming yourself for having to let go. One is healthy. The other…”

She huffs softly, and I see her eyes reflect in the light. They are brimming with tears threatening to overflow.

“Well, the other brought you to me. We will sit with that one together.”

My chest aches when she speaks those words. Together. The word comes out with such clarity that there is no denying it. I feel a shudder roll through my body, but her hands are already on me before I can steady myself.

“Together,” I whisper, and she smiles.

“Together,” she says again.

We sit like that for a long time. Long enough for the outside world to slow down into that midnight lull. Her hand is still tangled in my hair, my arms are wrapped around her waist, and my cheek is plastered against her chest. The heavy feeling that was pressing down has slowly resolved, allowing me to fully relax into the moment. Into her. It is everything.

For the first time in days, my mind is completely still. I feel… safe. All because of her, because of Mary. I hold on to her a little tighter, and a part of me wishes we could stay here, in this moment, forever. This, us, it just feels right. I hum contentedly.

She sighs in reply. It is so quiet that I feel it more than hear it. When I lift my gaze, she is looking down at me. Her eyes are soft and warm, and there is something pleased in the look on her face. My heart races, and my lips part as I draw in a shuddering breath. Her eyes widen slightly at the sound, and I feel her fingers tremble against me.

“Hi,” she whispers, huffing out a breath.

“Hi,” I whisper back.

My hand moves up of its own accord. My knuckles softly caress her jaw before my fingers come to rest just behind the hinge. My thumb traces her soft lips, and her eyes flutter closed. For one beat, her body tenses.

“Stay here with me,” I murmur as I straighten up.

I can feel her hesitation, and I can’t lose her to it. She is not some sort of escape. This, Mary, it’s so much more. I just want to fold into her, into us. And I can’t have her run away from that. Not now that we have finally found each other. Now that we see each other.

“Can I kiss you?”

My voice comes out low, steady now. Mary opens her eyes at the shift, and she stares at me. Her pupils are blown. I see recognition flicker there, and something in her eases. Her breath catches high in her chest, and her lips part with a quiver. She wraps her fingers around my wrist in an attempt to anchor herself, and the touch feels like fire on my skin. I press my own fingers against the base of her neck in response, guiding her closer to me. My gaze drops to her full lips, and my stomach flips. I take a slow breath before I pull her toward me and lower my lips to hers.

Mary melts into my kiss, humming softly. Our lips part simultaneously, and our tongues meet as we both hold on a little tighter. I want her even closer than this. I want to feel her, breathe her in. Not because I’m running away from something, but because I’m running toward it. Toward her. And there is no other place I want to be.

She smells like fresh cotton and soap. The scent is intoxicating even after all this time of me leaning against her. It is as if she is everywhere. I break the kiss and press my forehead against hers.

“Maria,” I whisper, and she breathes in shakily in reply. “I want this… I want you.”