Page 147 of Chasing Infinity

A hand on my middle back and a voice mumbling, “Hey, it’s okay.”

Another sob hits my body, and I start shivering. My eyes manage to focus enough so I can see who’s found me.

When I see Jordan standing before me, my chest starts to ache again. “I can’t go any further,” is all I manage to get out. My eyes are probably red and puffy, my nose dripping from the severity of the tears pouring from within me.

“Okay,” he says softly. “Want me to help you back to your place?” I nod my head weakly, and then he takes a step closer. “Do you think you can walk?” Again I nod my head. Jordan reaches for my arm and then wraps it around his waist, giving me a chance to lean on him for support if I need it. I do, taking advantage of his strength when I have none. He wraps his arm across my shoulders, holding onto me, so I don’t disappear into nothingness.

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

We start to take a slow pace back to the diner. The tears have subsided slightly, possibly the effect of having the presence of another human close. My nose is still horrendously stuffy, and I try to breathe without seeming too gross.

“Did you hear what happened?” I finally manage to ask Jordan. His arm tightens across my shoulders, and he exhales a heavy breath.

“I did.”

“It was terrible, Jordan,” I whisper softly, wondering if he hears me. “It could have beenreally bad.”

“Hey,” his gruff voice manages to rattle me out of my spiraling thoughts. “It wasn’t, though. I heard from Charlie that he’s awake now.”

I swipe at my eyes with my free hand, more traitorous tears leaking out of my eyes. “Yeah, but—”

“No buts, Addison,” Jordan cuts me off. “Just take it day by day, okay?”

Jordan gets me home, and I immediately go into my bathroom, dropping my running gear on the way. With a few taps on my phone, I find my favorite playlist and ramp the volume up. I hop into the shower, turning it as high as possible until the water scalds my skin. I scrub away all the evidence from the last 24 hours with my loofa. I’m not the one who was covered in leaves and dirt when we arrived at the hospital, but somehow I still feel dirtier. As if I have a layer of stress and anxiety just sitting on my skin’s surface. I let the scent of lavender from my body wash seep into my skin and nose, soothing away the worries.

By the time I get out and towel off, I’m feeling refreshed. I drink some water and find a snack out of my pantry before lounging on my couch for an hour or so. It’s a nice break from the monotony of sitting in a hospital room and watching the nurses come and go.

When I return back to the hospital that evening, Noah is in the middle of spooning chocolate pudding into his mouth. He peeks up at me sheepishly as I enter his room and move to sit by him.

“Hey,” he says, giving me a shy smile.

“Hi. How’s that pudding?”

Noah sits back a little and looks down at the pudding cup with a wry expression. “Not going to lie, it’s pretty damn good. I can’t remember the last time I had pudding.”

“It was probably when we were back in middle school,” I laugh. “And it likely ended up all over my shirt at some point.”

Noah’s eyes go wide as he turns to me, alarmed. “I never did that, did I?”

The heart monitor beside Noah’s bed starts beeping at an increased rate, and I snicker again, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Calm down, big guy. No, you never dropped pudding on me.”

Noah exhales sharply. “There’s so much I don’t remember from when we were younger. And I was such a little asshole to you in those early days. I don’t think I would’ve put it past me.”

“Your weapon of choice tended to be your words,” I tell him, my voice light and teasing. “I don’t think you ever resorted to food fighting.”

Noah groans. “Honestly, I don’t know which one is worse.”

I give a light laugh, then silence falls over us, and I worry at my fingers tied together in my lap. Noah notices and raises an eyebrow at me, waiting for me to tell him what’s on my mind.

“I um…” I pause, thinking over my words. Noah dips his spoon into his chocolate pudding again, bringing another bite towards his mouth and eyeing me expectantly. “I was moving your stuff into my bedroom while you were at your dad’s.”

“Okay,” he says, trailing off the word as if he’s unsure where I’m going with this.

I purse my lips, gazing at the man I love so much and wondering if this will change things for us again. Will he run away? There’s only one way to find out. Just like ripping a bandaid off. “Noah, I found your badge.”

His steely eyes go wide, and he sets his spoon down on the tray in front of him, clearing his throat. “Oh.”

“I didn’t mean to. It just fell out,” I tell him. “But I want you to tell me what’s going on. And no more of this ‘I promise I’ll tell you eventually’ crap. I want you to tell menow.”

---