Spark- Part Three

Everything hurts. Every inch of my body, every bone, every muscle, every pore hurts. Even my toenails hurt. That is the very first thing I become aware of when I open my eyes. A sudden panic rises up in my throat when I realize I have no idea where I am. Then I recognize that unmistakable sterile smell. The hospital.

Then I see her, standing over me and the sight of her is so welcome I want to cry and I would if I was sure it wouldn’t further injure my already aching throat. I struggle to focus my gaze on her but I feel like I’m underwater.

"Dane?" Her voice is barely above a whisper. "Oh my God, you have no idea how…" she grabs my hand. "You scared the crap out of us, you know."

I want to ask her a million questions, starting with how the hell I landed in the hospital and ending with how long I’d been out of it, but she shakes her head.

"Don’t try to talk." Her voice trembles and I realize she is crying. Oh, my poor Alice. She must have been terrified.

I unfurl my fingers the best I can and stroke her knuckles. "Al. How long…" The effort it takes to say so few words is almost too much, but she understands.

"Almost a week. You got this infection and it pretty much kicked your ass," she explains, wiping her eyes. "It weakened your heart. It was uh, it was pretty touch and go for awhile there. We called your family. I know you said not to unless it was serious, but…" she trails off.

One of the things I love best about Alice is that she cannot lie. To anyone, me in particular. I can always count on her to tell me the truth, even if I don’t want to hear it. "I knew you would be alright, Dane." she raises my hand to her mouth and kisses it.

I want to tell her so many things. I want to tell her she takes my breath away. I want to tell her I dreamed of her the whole time, how I replayed what I should have said to her that night a thousand and one times. I want to tell her  how in my dreams, I gave her a different answer when she asked me to move in with her. I want to tell her that I never stopped loving her.

I don’t say any of these things because Alice kicks off her shoes and lies down next to me. I should be startled, but somehow I am not. She curls against me, her cheek pressed to mine. I feel her tears, wet on my face. It is the most natural thing in the world and her body fits against mine the way it always has.
"I was so scared," she whispers, a confession. She doesn’t have to say anything else, because I know. We never had to say too much.

In awhile, this room will be filled with people; doctors, my family, our friends. It will be loud and joyful and chaotic and beautiful. I will have to take a nap afterwards from all the excitement.

But for now it is just Al and I. Her breath tickles my ear and her arms wrap around me, grounding and anchoring me, same as always. We are the only two people in the world.

And that is more than enough for now.