“Rest, Dustin. I need you to rest.” Someone centers their face above mine. She’s wearing a mask. This is my doctor. I recognize her voice.
I nod, or at least, I think I do.
There’s more rushing around me and in the chaos, Hannah’s grasp on my hand slips and we lose each other. I struggle to say her name, but nothing comes out. Everything hurts.
“I’m here, Dustin. I’m right here.”
I turn my head to the sound of her voice, and fight to take a breath. My chest aches, as if someone drove a massive SUV through the center of my body.
I can’t see Hannah. There are too many people between us.
“I’m here,” she says again.
I choose to believe her and leave my head to its side. I stare into the rush of bodies working to fix me. I’m not sure what’s broken, but I’m alive. I’m alive and so is Hannah. That’s all that matters. I can sleep now.
I blink a few times, my eyes adjusting to the light. Everyone from before is gone—both the doctors and the people I imagined. It’s only Hannah. I study her shape, and soon her smile comes into focus.
“Hey, Dusty.” She leans forward and runs her hand along my forehead. It’s the best feeling in the world. Oh, my God, I can feel it.
“Hey,” I croak.
She grabs a pink cup and a straw from the nearby table and brings it to my lips. Her hand aids me to lift my head and I take a drink. This is the greatest water I have ever tasted.
“I feel like my ribs are broken,” I whisper in a raspy voice.
“Probably because they are,” she says, mouth settling into an apologetic smile.
I move my hand to my chest and feel the taut bandages.
“You told Bristol I was getting Band-Aids,” I say.
“You heard that?” Her eyes become misty. I bet she’s cried a lot the last—.Wait, how long have I been in here?
“I did. What day is it?”
“Wednesday. Late morning. Don’t worry, TV was a bunch of reruns. You didn’t miss a thing.”
I try to laugh but it feels like stabbing so I wince instead.
“Sorry. I won’t be so funny.”
“Shouldn’t be hard,” I tease.
She gives me a sideways glance.
She slides her chair closer and takes my hand in both of hers, leaning forward and pressing her lips to my knuckles.
“You scared me,” she admits.
I do my best to move my thumb along the back of her hand. Every movement seems difficult, like my brain has to tell my body what to do twice before it actually does anything.
“Scared myself pretty good too, if that’s any consolation.”
She shakes her head.
“Not at all. Dustin Bridges doesn’t get scared.”
I stare at her tired eyes and pale face and wonder when the last time she stepped outside was.
“Am I in Dallas still?” I can’t imagine they flew me to Arizona, but at this point, I’m willing to admit there are a lot of things I don’t know.
“You are. It’s humid here, and it’s winter.”
“Texas,” I respond.
She shakes with a short laugh, but her mouth forms a fast frown.
“Hey, I’m okay. We’re gonna be okay,” I say, reaching up. I can’t get my hand completely to her face so she helps me.
“Your motor skills are coming on board slowly. It’s going to take a few days, maybe a week with some therapy.” She must sense my worry.
My mind is assaulting me with so many questions. They’re flying at my nerve centers, all fighting to be first out of my mouth, but I hold them at bay. While this feels as though it’s all happened over minutes for me, I realize for Hannah, this has been nearly a life-altering week. If you take in everything we’ve been through as a whole, it’s been three weeks. And on a grander scale, it’s been years.
Instead of hammering her with questions, I enjoy the bliss that comes with feeling her hand in mine. There was a moment, a blip when the doctors were in here early, when I thought maybe I couldn’t feel her that well at all. It terrified me.
“I love you.” Those words come so easily.
“Oh, Dustin.” She lays her head on my pelvis and stares up at me, and I manage to get my hand to her hair. “I love you, too.”
This is a love story. Us. The highs and lows all lead to one final conclusion, and that is us. No matter what is thrown at us, we persevere.
My eyes take time to adjust to the entirety of the room. I tuck my chin, though it’s not easy to hold my head up for long. I recognize Bristol’s drawing and it makes me smile.
“Eat my dust,” I utter.
She quirks a brow, and I realize she’s not in my head hearing my thoughts.
“Nothing,” I laugh off.
Her gaze narrows, and eventually she looks to her right, seeing the same picture. She echoes my words.
“Eat my dust.”
The quiet feels nice with her near me. I glance down the length of my arm and see that I’m wired to way too many contraptions, but they must have turned the beeping off. I swear I could hear that noise no matter how deep I was.
“Think you can handle another visitor? Tommy has been dying to get in here.”
I work up the energy to smile.
“Sure.”
Hannah slips out of the room and I stare at the doorway until she appears again. I don’t like being alone in here. I’m not sure whether it’s my mind playing tricks or the trauma, but I don’t think I will do well if Hannah leaves.
Tommy files in behind her, and for once in his life, that loud-mouthed maniac actually whispers.
“Dude. You had me shitting my pants.” So eloquent, always.
He grabs my hand and turns to Hannah when my response feels weak.
“His strength will come,” she reassures him.
“Oh. Okay. So, like, if I punched him now, he wouldn’t be able to hit back?” He laughs at his own joke, but I get him back quickly.
“Nah, I can still punch you.” I flinch and it’s enough for him to fly back a step. Tommy flips me off but Hannah laughs so hard she squeals, making the effort worth it.
“Have you told him yet?” Tommy tilts his head toward me and my brow pinches.
“Tommy. It can wait,” Hannah responds.
“No it can’t. You can’t do that. Tell me what?” The doctor told me I was in a medical coma, but I’m not dead and I’m very irritable. Maybe I should have had Tommy wait to visit.
“Dude, cartel caught up with Offerman. He’s— Tommy draws a line across his throat for dramatic effect.
“What? That makes zero sense.” I wait for him to finish with a gotcha, but he doesn’t, so I glance to Hannah.
Her lips are drawn tight but she nods. I can tell by the iciness in her eyes that she has more details to the story. I also get the feeling I shouldn’t ask questions in front of Tommy, and maybe not at all.
“Wow. I mean, I guess the guy had some karma due.” I shift in my bed and my ribs push back. I wince.
“You should probably get some rest. Let me get out of here. Hannah, are you staying or should I wait?” Tommy glances to his sister at the same time I do, and she must read the pleading in my gaze.
“I’m here for the night. Maybe fresh clothes in the morning? And real coffee.”