Page 92 of Tell Me Your Desires
Zoe slid into the chair Anya had vacated. “She’ll be okay.”
Jaime side-glanced at Zoe. “You don’t know that.”
“No. But I’ve seen the way she looks at you. She’s not coming back dead. Not when she’s finally got something to live for.”
That hit Jaime like a punch to the sternum. The tears she’d been holding back slipped free before she could stop them. “I was dead for a bit,” she said quietly. “Anya told me. And I remember this one thing. I… remember feeling peace. Likerealpeace. Not the kind you tell yourself you’ll get on a beach with a beer someday but never do. I remember thinking I could rest.”
Zoe didn’t say a word. She just listened.
“But then…I felt her.” Jaime blinked repeatedly as she stared up at the ceiling. “I felt her fingers laced in mine, and her voice saying she needed more time. And suddenly, I needed it, too.”
The silence from Zoe stretched on.
“I think,” Jaime whispered, “I think I fell in love with her the second she said my name like it was theonlyword that mattered.”
Zoe smiled faintly. “Then hang on to that. People who fall in love like that…they don’t get torn apart easily.”
Another knock.
Both women looked toward the door, but again, it wasn’t Anya. It was a nurse with Jaime’s updated chart and instructions for meds. Jaime barely heard them talking. She was already goneagain in her mind, seeing Anya’s face, the fire in her eyes when she said she was the savior.
Yeah, you are, babe, Jaime thought.Just don’t be a martyr.
Jaime’s hand closed slowly around the crumpled blanket. She could feel the pressure building in her chest again, the ache of helplessness turning into something sharper.
She needed something. Anything.
A pen. She reached toward the table drawer with her uninjured arm, biting back a grunt. Inside, she found paper, a cheap plastic pen, and a couple of out-of-date magazines. She grabbed the pen and paper, ignoring Zoe’s questioning look.
“What’re you doing?”
Jaime tried to sit up a little better, burning way too much energy when she did so. “Writing her a letter.”
“Sheiscoming back, you know.”
“I know.” Jaime paused. “But just in case…If I don’t say it now, I’ll never forgive myself.”
She stared down at the paper for a while, the pen hovering and her fingers trembling.
Then she started to write.
Anya,
If I didn’t say it enough when you were standing right in front of me…I love you. I love your fire, your brilliance, the way you throw yourself into danger like you’re too stubborn to die. I love your sarcasm, your strength, your goddamn mouth when you’re bossing me around. If anything happens to you, I’ll never stop trying to figure out how to rewind time and make you stay.
You told me to trust you. I do. With everything.
But I also know love means being terrified sometimes. And right now, I’m terrified.
So please, just come back.
— J
She folded it carefully, slid it beneath her pillow, and exhaled slowly.
Maybe she’d never need to give it to Anya, but she felt better having the words out in the open. Just in case. Zoe didn’t say a word. She didn’t ask to read it. She just gently adjusted Jaime’s IV and dimmed the lights a little more.
As Jaime stared at the ceiling, her heart hammering and her mind racing, all she could do was wait. And hope like hell that Anya reallywouldcome back.
