Page 91 of Hidden Truths

My brain is slow to catch up to what happened. I’m still pressing on her wound, crying and begging her to open her eyes when I realize what happened.

She jumped in front of me. She jumped in front of a bullet. For me.

“Why did you do that?” I ask her. “Why? Don’t you know my life isn’t worth yours?”

Harrison directs the police and ambulance down the dirt road. I refuse to take any pressure off where Harlow’s life isslowly draining from her. The medics let me in the ambulance with her, not willing to fight me on it or realizing that the pressure needed to be kept. I’m not sure which, nor do I care.

“Come on, Firecracker. You have to stay with me. I love you. Cora loves you. She needs her mom, and I need my wife,” I tell her. “I love you.” I just keep repeating it the entire drive to the hospital, the entire run into the emergency room and right before they finally took her from me.

I kept repeating it when Harrison led me to the waiting room. I repeat it while my friends try to give me coffee, and my sister hugs my numb body. I repeat it when the police come to question us and when the doctors come out to tell us she made it through surgery.

I repeat it like a prayer or a spell as I take the seat next to her bed. I repeat it for the days that followed when she doesn’t wake up.

I’m repeating it right now, ten days later, as I ignore the doctors telling me she may never wake up.

I will never stop repeating it. Not until she wakes up and shows me those perfect green eyes.

thirty-eight

HARLOW

The first thingthat hits me is the smell. Antiseptic that always has an underlying smell of urine.

The next thing that hits me is the noise. The beeping of machines and barely audible crying.

The last thing that hits me is the bright light as I peel open my heavy eyelids.

It takes a few blinks to get my vision to clear. Fluorescent lights in the ceiling, monitors showing vitals, and scratchy blankets.

Yup. I’m in a hospital.

“Come on, Firecracker. You have to stay with me. I love you. Cora loves you. She needs her mom, and I need my wife.”

I turn my head to see Cal at my bedside, his hands clasped like he’s begging, tears flowing freely onto the blanket.

I open my mouth to tell him how much I love him, but nothing comes out. My mouth and throat are so dry it feels like I swallowed an entire desert. Instead, I reach for him; the movement taking more effort than that one time I thought running a half marathon was a good idea.

The moment my fingers brush his, Cal’s head whips up and his eyes lock onto mine. He’s a mess. His eyes are red andpuffy, his face is covered in a messy almost-beard, and his hair is sticking up in every direction. The dark bags under his eyes advertise how little sleep he’s gotten.

“Harlow,” his voice cracks on a sob. He reaches out a shaky hand, gently stroking my face. “Is this a dream?”

I shake my head and slowly lift my hand, patting my throat, hoping he understands. His eyebrows fly up, and he grabs me a cup of water, holding the straw as I take a drink.

“Slowly,” he says, his eyes still locked on mine with so much adoration and fear shining in them it makes me want to cry.

“Cal.” My voice comes out as a croak, but it’s enough for him to collapse next to me and sob. His hand is gripping my hand so tightly it almost hurts, but I grip his hand back with as much strength as I have. “What happened?”

Cal kisses my hand, his tears mixing with his lips. “You jumped in front of me,” he says, pulling my hand to his chest and holding it there. “Never do that again.”

I snort. Cal shakes his head at me, but a small smile teases the corner of his lips.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” he asks, helping me take another sip of water.

“Corn,” I say, and it’s his turn to snort.

“You’re awake!” An older nurse says and clasps her hands together. “Oh, we so hoped you would. Your husband here, he never gave up hope, and he would kick out anyone who said otherwise. You got yourself a keeper right here, young lady,” she says with a wink. She has the kind of eyes that older people have where you can’t tell if they’re sparkling because they’re happy or if they’re chronically watery. I smile, though, fully aware of how lucky I am to have Cal in my life.

She takes my vitals and calls the doctor in. They fuss over me for longer than I’d like. Cal holds my hand the entire time, not giving a single shit that he’s in the way.

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