“I never stopped loving you,” he whispered. “Not even for a second. Even when I hated you.”
I whispered, “I love you, too, Dylan.”
It had been more than two years since the last time we held each other like this, the morning he left San Francisco to go back home. Both of us had changed, but for the first time in two years, I felt whole with his arms wrapped around me.
The moment would have been perfect, but I heard Kelly’s voice behind us. “Um… I hate to interrupt this incredibly touching scene, but um… he needs to go the hospital. Like, right now.”
Dylan and I both jerked. We pulled slightly apart, and I took his arm in my hand.
Oh, shit.
His hand was… mangled. Knuckles split, blood dropping to the ground in great big splatters. I felt my breath speed up suddenly, and realized that I could see the bone of one of his fingers.
“Jesus Christ, Dylan, look what you did to your hand!”
He looked down at his hand, a lost expression on his face. He shook his head, and said, “Um, yeah. I better see a doctor.”
He closed his eyes and swayed a little.
“We’re coming with you,” Joel said.
Kelly nodded.
So I took my wrap off and wound it around his injured hand, and we waved down a cab.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Worth fighting for (Dylan)
So, next thing I knew the four of us were crammed into the backseat of a taxi, on our way to the VA hospital all the way down on the Lower East Side. I was all the way over on the left side of the seat, with Alex somehow wrapped around me, my right hand resting palm up in her lap, wrapped in her silk wrap, which wasn’t going to be much good for wearing after tonight. She leaned against me, and as much pain as my hand was in—which was a lot —most of my focus was on her.
Neither of us spoke, I think because this moment was just too big to get words around it.
Kelly and Joel pretty much took care of that for us. Kelly was sitting in the middle of the back seat, and she muttered to Joel, “You never mangled your hand for me. What kind of boyfriend were you, anyway?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Joel answered.
“I’m just saying. I don’t think you’re really serious. If you were, you’d find a way to show it. Like completely fucking up your hand or something.”
Alex shook with laughter against me. I turned my head, looked down at her, resting her head on my shoulder.
“It’s not that I don’t take you seriously, Kelly. Or that I’m not serious. I’m just not fucking crazy like this guy obviously is.” He looked across the car at me. “No personal offense meant, Dylan.”
I grimaced. Oh, Christ, that hurt like a motherfucker.
“None taken,” I croaked.
“Look, Kelly,” he said. “I need you to hear me on this.”
Kelly was sitting as far from Joel as she could get, which meant that she was jammed hip to hip against Alex. Her back was straight and she was staring straight forward, her arms crossed over her chest.
“I think I just got scared, okay? What are we, nineteen? It’s a big fucking commitment! Neither of us dated anyone else since we started college, and… I was afraid.”
“That’s not true,” Kelly said. “You’ve been busy playing the field since school started this year. If I do ever let you near me again, you’re getting tested for STDs first.”
“Oh, for God’s sake.”
“Seriously, what the hell does playing the field mean anyway? Am I like some sports metaphor for you? You made it to home base, so now it’s time to go to the Superbowl or whatever?”
He shook his head. “Superbowl is football, hun. Home base is baseball.”
“Oh. My. God!”
“Aww, shit. Look, I screwed up, Kels. I love you! I don’t want anyone but you!”
“Well, now you’re back in Little League, buster, and they don’t have bases. Or field goals. Or… whatever. You’re so going to have to convince me.”
“I got you those weird flowers you like.”
Alex started to shake, hard, suppressing laughter. I looked back down at her, and our eyes met. She smiled, and I wanted to lean over and kiss her more than anything else in the world, except that would have moved my damned hand.
She stretched up, putting her lips next to my ear, and whispered, “She’s a goalie now, isn’t she?”
I couldn’t help it. I burst into laughter.
“Weird flowers? You are so far from convincing me, you have no idea.”
“What do I have to do to convince you, babe?” he said.
“Send me more weird things that I like.”
“Done.”
“You’re going to have to grovel. Maybe forever.”
“Jesus Christ, lady,” the taxi driver said. “Give the guy a break!”
I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I guffawed, shaking with it, and Alex joined me.
Kelly looked over at us, and said, “Well, you two are no help at all!”
Oh, God! I laughed even harder, tears running down my cheeks. I wiped them away with my good hand, and said, “Kelly, I’m so glad I finally met you.”
She gave a loud “Hmmmph,” then said, “Only because it looks like you and hormone girl are back together.”
I was lightheaded, and gave her a big smile. Were we? Back together? I don’t know. But whatever we were, it was better than being heartbroken.
Kelly and Joel bickered the entire way to the hospital. At one point I leaned down and whispered to Alex, “I thought she wanted to get back together with him.”
She whispered back, “Don’t worry, this is normal for them.”
Jesus Christ. If this was normal, I didn’t want to see what they were like when she was upset.
Then again, it seemed a lot less painful than what Alex and I had been doing all these months.
And that was when the weight of it hit me again. She might be all curled up against me now, when I was injured, but could she really forgive me? I got it, finally. Because it was nothing more than a misunderstanding. It hadn’t been some guy in her room. It was just her roommate’s boyfriend, being friendly. I’d so totally screwed this up that I was afraid there was no going back. The significance of the photo on her nightstand, the dried roses framed on her wall, didn’t escape me. We’d loved each other, and I’d hurt her. Hurt her badly. Did I even have a right to be forgiven?
Right then and there, I promised myself we’d talk the moment we were alone. We would hash this out. We’d break every rule either one of us had, until we really understood each other, and what happened, and whether or not we could move forward.
Because, for the first time since that hideous week when Kowalski and Roberts died, for the first time since I landed in the hospital, I began to feel some hope. Hope, because of the woman curled up against my side. And that was something worth fighting for.
The cab pulled up to the emergency room, and I started to stretch around, trying to get at my wallet with the wrong hand.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Alex said, fishing in her purse. She passed a twenty to the cab driver, and we got out of the cab. I staggered a little, and she wrapped her arms around my side.
“Sorry I ruined your night,” I said to Kelly and Joel.
“Don’t worry about it, man,” Joel said. “Watching you guys fight was way more entertaining than sitting at 1020 anyway. Besides, I’m glad we sorted it out. If we’d met alone somewhere, you might have been hitting me instead of a wall. And that would have been kind of upsetting.”
Kelly rolled her eyes and slapped Joel on the shoulder. It was a possessive slap, and I was pretty sure she was giving in.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice cracking a little. “Misunderstanding, okay?”
“Yeah, we kinda heard the whole thing,” he said. “Don’t stress it.”
At the desk in the emergency room, we did paperwork. And I bled a little on the desk, then apologized. A few minutes later a physician’s
assistant came over and did triage, decided that as bad as it looked, my hand wasn’t life threatening, then said someone would be with us eventually.
“This might take a while,” I said.
“We’ve got all the time in the world,” Alex murmured. She still hadn’t let go of me.
So we waited. After a little while, Joel and Kelly stopped bickering, and started making out. They were getting a lot of interested looks from the other people in the waiting room, until finally an elderly lady sitting two seats down from them tapped Joel on the shoulder with her cane.
“You two are indecent,” she said. “Why don’t you take it somewhere else.”
“Oh God,” Kelly said. “I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, sorry,” Joel mumbled.
“Maybe you two should get going,” Alex said. “We’ll be fine here.”
“You’re sure?” Kelly asked.
By this time, Joel was standing, tugging on her hand.
“Yes,” Alex said, nodding. “Go!”
Kelly leaned in close to Alex and whispered, “I probably won’t be home tonight.”
Alex grinned. “See you tomorrow, then.”
Joel looked over at me, said, “Later, Dylan. Nice to meet you.” He stuck his hand out to shake, and I automatically did the same, then gasped in pain. We did not shake hands.
I nodded to him. The two of them hurried out of the emergency room, hand in hand.
“They’re funny,” I said.
She grinned. “Yeah. But they love each other.”
She leaned in a little closer to me as she said it.
I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the pain in my hand, and said, “What about us? What are we exactly, now?”
She looked at me, her eyes stealing away my breath, and said, “Do we have to figure that out right now?”
I said, “Not right this second. But soon. Before… before we get our hearts broken all over again.”
She winced. “Good point, I guess.” She looked away, and I could see her lower lip quivering.
“Alex,” I said. “Listen to me.”
She turned back toward me.
“I want to talk about what happened. Between us.”
She nodded, then said, “Why?”
“I think we need to clear the air. Alex… we’ve been dancing around this for weeks. Sometimes flirting, sometimes not. Remembering, but not. Playing by rules that seemed to make sense, but maybe they don’t really. I think it’s time to be honest about what’s going on with us.”
She blinked, and took a deep breath. Her expression radiated anxiety.
“Talk to me, Alex. Why are you afraid of this?”
Her mouth twitched at the edges into a smile. She whispered, “Because I’m happier right now than I’ve been in a long time. I don’t want to screw it up.”
I took a deep, shuddering breath. It was clear she really meant it. She was happier right now than she’d been in a long time, because she was with me.
All the more reason to be honest, about everything.
“Neither do I,” I said. “And I’m afraid if we don’t talk, I’ll have assumptions, or you’ll have assumptions, that the other doesn’t share. And we’ll screw up again. And that… I don’t think I could take it.”
“Just answer me one thing,” she said.
I nodded.
“Do you love me? Really? Still?”
I pulled her closer, and said, quietly, “More than life itself.”
She wrapped her arms around me and leaned against my chest. “Okay. Then I’ll talk about whatever you want to talk about.”
So, now that you’ve mentioned the pill (Alex)
“Okay,” I said. “Then I’ll talk about whatever you want to talk about.”
I couldn’t seem to stop holding Dylan. My hands were wrapped around his waist, and I could feel the hard muscle of his abdominal muscles under them.
There was no question Dylan was not the same boy I’d fallen in love with. He’d grown, matured in ways I couldn’t have foreseen four years ago. Sometimes I could look at him and see the hardened soldier he’d had to become: occasionally grim faced, chest and arms built like a boxer, short cropped hair, and especially his eyes; eyes that sometimes stared off into the distance as if he were a million light years away. That was the Dylan it was hard to get used to: the one who could get so angry he would slam his fist over and over again into a wall until he broke bones. I sort of understood what had happened to the man, but it was difficult to match up the reality with the boy I’d known and fallen in love with.
The Dylan I’d fallen in love with was gentle, and kind. Thoughtful. Funny. He was still all of those things but had an edge to him that was new and, to be honest, frightening. This was a guy who’d carried weapons in a war for most of last year. This was a man who had killed, who had seen his friends killed in battle. There were depths to him that were all new, and scary as hell.
“So…” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper. “Where do we start?”
He smiled brilliantly, but I could tell he was in a tremendous amount of pain.
“I have no idea,” he said.
I leaned my head back, letting out a low chuckle. Finally I said, “Let’s take our time. Here’s what I’ll promise. I promise to give it a chance.”
He nodded. “Me too,” he said.
“In some ways, you know, we hardly know each other.”
“It’s true. I mean… we were seventeen the last time we spent any time together.”
“I was sixteen. And yes… that’s a long time.”
“Plus,” he said, “It wasn’t exactly a normal environment. As much as the Middle East sucks in my mind, there’s no denying the incredible romance of it all.”
I looked up at him, meeting his gaze again, and he said, “You know what?”
“What?”
“There’s a side benefit to this. We get to learn about each other, get to know each other, all over again.” His voice dropped to a husky near whisper, and he leaned close and said next to my ear, “We get to fall in love all over again, for the second time. How cool is that?”
I smiled so wide it hurt my cheeks, and put my lips next to his ear and whispered, “I’d say you’re worth falling in love with twice.”
The old lady who had run off Kelly and Joel cleared her throat, then began grumbling. I rolled my eyes a little, but pulled back all the same. It was just as well, because a few moments later Dylan’s name was called.
I stood and walked with him, holding his uninjured hand. In a curtained-off examination room, a young doctor, probably a medical student, took a look at Dylan’s hand, and said, “Holy mother, what did you do?”
Dylan grimaced. “I kind of punched a wall. Pretty hard.”
The doctor shook his head. “That’s one hell of a punch. We’re going to need to get X-rays. This is going to hurt like hell, I’ve got to clean the wound or it will go septic. Couple questions… any previous hospitalizations?”
“Um, yeah,” Dylan said. I knew he had answered this on the intake form. “Roadside bomb, in February. Screwed up my leg pretty bad. TBI.”
“How’s the leg doing?” the doctor asked.
“I walked in here. The other guys from my hummer are dead. I’m doing okay.”
I shivered at the matter of fact way he said it.
The doctor looked over his glasses at Dylan, then said, “You taking any medications?”
Dylan hesitated, looked at me as if considering something, then answered. “Oxycodone. We’ve been tapering the dosage down for a few months. Paxil. And trileptal.”
I swallowed. He was taking a boatload of drugs. I had no idea.
“Trileptal,” the doctor said. “For seizures?”
“Yeah, I’ve had them occasionally. My primary care doc in Atlanta has been reducing the dosage of everything, but when we tried to stop the anticonvulsants, well… I had seizures. It wasn’t pretty.”
The reality of his war injuries was hitting m
e hard. Dylan Paris, the guy I knew when we were teenagers… he was a disabled veteran with severe injuries.
“Hmm… I think just continue the oxy for the pain. We’ll get some X-rays done, then decide what to do about the hand. It’s going to be a long night for you, Mr. Paris. Wait here, I’ll be right back with you.”
Dylan sighed, then closed his eyes. I held his left hand, and he said, “You don’t have to stay. This is going to take all night.”
I leaned over and kissed him on his eyelid. “Dylan, there’s nowhere I’d rather be than here with you.”
“You’re crazy,” he said.
“Crazy for you.”
He let out a short, bark-like laugh, then kissed my forehead. “You didn’t know I was on all that stuff.”
I shook my head.
“The oxy we’ve taken down to very little in the last couple months. It’s awesome stuff when you have big gaping holes in you. They started me out on morphine, believe it or not. Holy cow, that stuff is dreamy. I’ve been trying to get them to keep it to an absolute minimum. A little pain won’t kill me, but drug addiction will.”
I nodded, just listening.
“The uh… Paxil… Well, you know. I told you I’ve got some uh, anger issues. Post-traumatic stress. Depression. All that fun stuff.”
He sounded almost ashamed of himself.
“It’s okay, Dylan. That’s perfectly normal. Half the people I know are taking Paxil or something like it.”
He shook his head. “Yeah, well, I’m not a big fan of drugs of any kind.”
“Except your cigarettes.”
He shrugged, then smirked at me. “That’s different. Think they’d notice if I had one in here?”
“Yeah, I do.”
He frowned. “Bummer.”
We sat in silence for a few moments. Then he said, “It doesn’t bother you? The anticonvulsants and all that shit? I’m like taking half the pharmacy. I could break down and have a seizure any time; it still happens sometimes, even with the pills. I can’t even get a driver’s license because of it.”
I frowned. “Does it bother you that I’m on birth control pills?”
Just Remember to Breathe (Thompson Sisters) Page 9
