Outside my window, the tulips are in full bloom. Just like the one that I inked onto her arm yesterday. I hope she’s taking care of it, wherever she is. If she had stayed this morning, I could have cleaned it and re-dressed it for her. I wish that she would have given me the chance...
Suddenly, my phone rings, and I snatch it up at once. I need to hear her voice again. And, sure enough, a moment later, I do.
"Hey," she sighs.
"Hi, Spring," I murmur. She sounds exhausted. “What’s going on?" I ask. I can hear her breathing, labored, down the other end of the line. Like she has been crying.
"I’m... I’m in Denver, Shotgun," she explains.
"What are you doing there?" I demand. I can feel the worry moving through me. I don’t get concerned about other people, not really. Most of the Men of Valor can look after themselves, but there is something about the way she sounds right now that is so vulnerable it makes my heart ache for her.
"I’m at the hospital."
"Are you–"
"I’m okay," she assures me. "But... it’s my dad. He flew to Denver last night for a work conference but was in a car accident when he was on the way from the airport to the hotel. He’s in intensive care, and they don’t know if he’s going to make it..."
Her voice cracks and breaks, and I can hear the agony that she has been trying to contain spilling out to consume her. It hurts me to hear her like that. I ache to pull her into my arms, kiss her cheeks, tell her that everything is going to be okay, but I am not sure that she wants that from me now.
"He’s just done with surgery, and they still don’t know how he’s going to turn out," she sniffles. "I – I don’t know what to do, I really don’t. I feel so guilty..."
"You have nothing to be guilty about," I tell her firmly. I am not going to let her beat herself up over the night that we spent together, not a chance in hell.
"I can come down there," I continue, already crunching the numbers on how long it will take to get my bike over to Denver.
"You don’t need to do that," she assures me. I can hear the doubt in her voice. If she asked me to drop everything to be with her right now, I would do it. I would rent a hotel room out there just so she could have a place to come back to every night. Whatever it took. As long as we could be together.
"I don’t mind–"
"I have someone here with me," she replies. "Todd. He’s a friend of my father’s, he’s been keeping me company..."
She trails off, as though she has a feeling that this man isn’t exactly one that I would be too happy about. A realization grips my chest.
"Todd Chadwick?” I ask her.
"Yeah, Todd Chadwick."
That motherfucker. It’s tempting to toss my phone against the opposite wall, but I know that’s not going to help. She needs me acting sane, and that’s far from it.
"How long have you known him?" I ask. I don’t want to shit on someone who has given her some measure of peace at this time, but I know that a fucker like Todd Chadwick is best not believed. And if he knows that I’m the one that she spent the night with, I’m just certain that he might have had some pointed things to say about me.
"Long enough to know that my father would want him here," she replies. "I’m sorry I had to leave like that, Shotgun, I really am. I don’t know how long I’m going to be down here, but I..."
Her voice catches at the back of her throat. I need to be there with her. I need to hold her and tell her that everything is going to be okay, even if I don’t know that yet. Something. Anything, to take the sting of heartbreak out of her voice.
"I miss you," she breathes.
"I miss you too," I reply. It feels like far too small a word for everything that is rushing through my head right now, and I have no idea where I am even meant to begin figuring it all out, but maybe I don’t have to yet.
"I’ll see you soon," I promise her. "And anytime you need me, you know where I am, right?”
"I know," she replies, softly, sadly. And then, she hangs up the phone.
And it is at that moment, with the remnants of her voice ringing in my ears, that I know it for sure.
I know that I am in love with her.
10
Spring
I yawn, run my hand through my hair, and sip on the coffee that has become all too familiar to me since I have been staying in Denver.