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“I never forgot,” she replied. Tears shone in her eyes. “And you wrote me?”

I smiled sadly. “I have them all in a file. And the texts I sent to a secondary number I have.”

“Can I read them?”

“If you want.” I frowned. “If you want to try to go forward.”

“I’m afraid.”

I leaned back into my pillows, exhausted. “So am I, Maddy. I’m not sure I’d get over losing you again. I won’t be able to walk away this time. You’d have to do it.”

She bent and kissed my mouth. “I can’t.”

I cupped the back of her head.

“Good.”

Maddy

Matthew fell asleep holding my hand, his grip tight, as if afraid I would walk away if he let go. I studied him, watching him rest. The effects of the last few days were evident on his face. He was still pale, exhaustion written into his skin. His IV was capped but not removed yet. But his breathing was steady and his pulse even and uniform. He was doing well, which filled me with relief.

I thought of his words. His insistence that we were right. That this was our time now.

I wanted to believe him.

I was still in love with him. As strange as it sounded, as crazy as it seemed since we had been apart far longer than we had been together, but my heart was still his.

And as Daisy noted, he was very open with his feelings. He made sure I knew he was still in love with me.

I was shocked to find out he’d been at my graduation. That he’d insisted his family leave me alone to give me the space I needed to get through the heavy course load without constant reminders of him. Of us.

Except, the entire time we were apart, he was on my mind. In my thoughts. When I was alone at night, finally able to relax, images of him, of us, would play out in my head. I would recall how complete I was with him, how safe. How incredibly loved I felt. From the moment he had walked away from me, it was as if a piece of me was missing.

And when he went down and was in danger, all I could think was that I would never again feel him hold me. Make love to me.

That I would never be whole again.

He sighed in his sleep, turning his face toward me, a slight grimace crossing his features before smoothing out and his breathing becoming deep and even again.

I knew I should go home. Sleep. I was exhausted. I had worked my shifts and stayed with him since the day it happened, which had been four days ago. I hadn’t left the hospital, and I knew when he found out he wouldn’t be happy.

But until I’d known he was going to be okay, I couldn’t leave him.

When I’d called his parents, I’d spoken to Richard, who assured me they would be there as quickly as possible. If he was surprised it was me calling, he didn’t let on, and when they’d arrived, he and Katy hugged me warmly, thanking me for being there. And Daisy had been a rock, insisting on taking some of the shifts, so between the two of us, one was close at all times until he woke fully from surgery.

I knew his parents planned to stay until he was on his feet again. Katy had warned me that he was a “terrible patient.”

“He always has been, even as a child.” She side-eyed Richard. “Another fatherly trait. Understanding with everyone around him, but not himself.”

This time, Richard didn’t protest.

And she was right. The unflappable, caring doctor Matthew disappeared, and the irritable, grumbling patient Matthew emerged. I found him rather amusing with his argumentative chatter since he was usually so affable and preferred being quiet.

The door opened behind me, and Daisy appeared. She nodded at me, standing at the end of Matthew’s bed, observing him.

“He’s going to be okay,” she whispered.

“I know.”