Page 80 of Downfall

“It’s nice to see you awake,” the woman continues. “I’m Dr. Patel. I’ll need to do a few tests and then we can get that tube out. How does that sound?”

Tired of bobbing my head, I lift my hand to give her a thumbs up. She smiles, grabbing a set of gloves from a nearby dispenser. The whole time she performs her tests and takes the tube out, Declan doesn’t leave my side or drop my hand. Emory assists Dr. Patel and the two of them work around him as if he’s a permanent fixture that can’t be moved, which is probably the case. At least he doesn’t look like he’d be willing to move an inch away from me anytime soon.

When they’re finally done, Emory offers me a cup of water with a straw as Dr. Patel explains that my throat will be raw for the next twenty-four hours, making it difficult to talk. Emory offers to get me a popsicle which I gratefully accept, and Dr. Patel promises to come back in a few hours to check on me. Then they’re both gone, and it’s just me and Declan again.

I want to tell him that I love him, not because he crawled through glass or never left my side, but because he’s my person, my best friend, the boy who took a chance on me and the man who saved my life. Not once, but twice. The truth is, we weren’t ready back then. Our love was too strong, too complicated for a couple of teenagers to navigate. He was still under his father’s thumb, and I was so naïve about the world. It took me leaving to realize that I wasn’t invisible, that I had value, and I could stand on my own two feet. I was heartbroken, yes, but I survived. I traveled, made friends, started a career, and I came out the other side stronger. He’s stronger now too, and we can face anything together. His dad, the documents I was given, whatever happened prior to my accident, we can deal with all of it.

I want to tell him this, but I can’t.

The irony isn’t lost on me. The moment I finally find the words, my voice doesn’t work.

So I do the only thing I can. I take his hand and bring it to my chest. My other hand comes up to rest against his heart, and I dip my head. The erratic thumping beneath my palm tells me he knows.

Without me having to say a word, he knows.

32

DECLAN

I think somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind, I knew I was going to break her heart that day. That’s why I didn’t tell her I loved her back. I did love her, of course. I’ve been in love with Skylar Galloway since the moment her eyes lit up when she thought I had never seen her favorite movies. When she took my hand and led me to her house. When she stole my first kiss. Subconsciously, I knew it had happened. I felt different when I woke up on that couch.

Just like I knew the moment I pushed into her for the first time that I wouldn’t be able to keep her. I still told her she was mine because she was. She always would be. But I knew I couldn’t say the words to her yet. I couldn’t say them when she barreled back into my life with a champagne bottle, demanding a cigarette, and I couldn’t say them when she offered her body to me again. I couldn’t say them when she was dying in my arms in that car, confessing her own love to me, or when she couldn’t wake up in the hospital or even after she woke up but couldn’t speak.

But now? In our house, in our bed, as I watch her softly breathing, the scent of green apple shampoo grounding me, I can finally say it out loud.

I wait until her eyes blink open, a smile curving her lips as soon as she sees me sitting on the bed.

“I love you.”

A tear forms in the corner of her eye. “I know.”

Her voice is still scratchy. It’s been two days since she was released from the hospital, almost a week since the accident. She was asleep for three days after surgery. For three days, I went insane until those beautiful green eyes parted and everything made sense again. She’s been sleeping most of the time since we got home, her body still recovering from the trauma and surgery, so we haven’t had a chance to talk much. I want to know if she remembers the accident, why she was driving that road at night, or what she said to me in the car. But I don’t want to force her to talk before she is ready.

And then there’s my mom. How did she know where Skylar was? Was she involved in what happened? Her involvement is hard to imagine, but the situation doesn’t add up. I’ve tried calling her multiple times, but she doesn’t answer. Even Amelia, who came to the hospital the day after surgery, is in the dark because I don't want to involve her until I know what the fuck is going on. I know I have to deal with this, but I only just got Skylar back, and all I want to do is hold her.

She reaches her hand up to graze my cheek. “I love you too.”

“I know.”

We haven’t had a conversation about what we’re going to do. About the marriage, the trust fund, any of it. We may be avoiding the inevitable, but it’s so comfortable here in the space where we don’t have to think or worry about any of it, where we can just be together.

I slide into the bed beside her, wrapping my arms around her as she presses her back to my front. My hand subconsciously drifts over her chest, her heartbeat soothing me.

She lets out a hoarse laugh. “You don’t have to do that.”

I rub my nose along her hair, inhaling her scent. “Do what?”

“Check to make sure my heart is still beating.”

“Was I?”

“You’ve been doing it every night,” she says.

“Oh.” My eyes grow heavy. I haven’t been sleeping at all. She’s right. I’ve been lying awake feeling her heartbeat and watching the rise and fall of her chest.

“Declan?”

“Yeah?” My voice is thick with exhaustion.