Page 101 of One Year Ago in Spain
Matías’s skin was gray and slack, his eyes sunken. He had lost so much weight, his chest hollow and collarbones sharp, no longer resembling the athletic man she’d just made love to. Eventhe beeping of the machines sounded more resigned than when Claire was last here.
“Oh, Matías.” She tiptoed to his side.
“I’m sorry.” Claire brushed some of the matted hair away from his forehead. She ran her fingers across his jawline, a rough, patchy beard now.
She wished she could climb into bed with him. Instead, she lay her cheek down lightly on one of the sole spots on his chest that wasn’t covered in bandages or monitor leads. “I am so, so sorry.”
“For what?”
Claire jumped back.
“Why…are you…sorry?” he rasped.
She let out a small squeak because Matías had cracked his eyes open. Just enough that she could see the glimmer of gold.
“Matías!” She flung himself onto him.
“Agh…gentle, churri.” He spoke slowly because his broken jaw was secured with wire.
“Oh god, sorry, sorry!” She immediately backed away.
“Please…stop…saying…you’re sorry,” he said, even though he was wincing from the pain she’d just caused.
Tears streamed down Claire’s face. “You’re awake.”
He coughed, and she rushed to his side. “Do you need water? Or do you want me to prop a pillow behind you?”
Matías grimaced and touched his ribs. “No…I’m okay. More than okay. Because of you.”
The machines in the background beeped, but the heartbeats were steadier now. The oxygen canula hissed, and Matías asked Claire to loop it off his head.
Tears spilled down her face. “You’re back,” she said. “You’re here. You’re—”
“Alive,” he said.
“Alive,” she echoed.
Matías tried to smile, but the jaw wiring made it only a wisp of a smile. Still, it was enough.
“Come here, churri.”
She leaned against the plastic railing of the bed and held his hand. “I thought I was going to lose you.”
“Never,” Matías said softly, his voice still gravelly from disuse. “You were there for me even when I was lost and didn’t know who you were. And because of that, I had something to hold on to—Every word. Every look. Every time we almost touched.
“You slowly let me remember who I was, and you helped me return. And…even though everything hurts now, it will get better. I know that as surely as I love you.”
Her tears fell onto his bare chest, then rolled off, soaking into his gown.
“Matías, before you left New York—”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does. I found the ring, and I knew you were going to propose if I came with you. I was so relieved that I already had an excuse to cancel. I just…I thought we were too different.”
“Yes, but—”
“Please, let me finish.”
