“Long enough,” he said, a smile to his lips. His lids hung heavy, and he seemed to be on just as many pain meds as myself. His chest rose high with a breath. “So you got them to bring you here?”
I noticed he didn’t let go of my hand; if anything, he forced them tighter together.
Distracted by them, I shifted to the side as much as I could without hurting myself to the point of crippling pain. A little discomfort felt worth it in these moments, though. I smiled. “Dad worked it out. I wanted to see you. Thank you for everything.”
They also hadn’t told me anything about him, and I couldn’t help worrying. He had donated an organ for me. So yeah, I worried.
His smile faltered a little after what I said and faded away completely as his gaze fell to the sheet. He noticed the ring I’d taken off, his ring I’d placed by his hip. His lashes flashed up. “You don’t want it?”
He actually… wanted me to have it? I opened my lips. “I thought…”
He picked it up, and as if instinctual, slid it right back to the place it’d been on my thumb. It was like he knew that’s where I’d been wearing it, suddenly my most precious possession.
“I gave this to you,” he said, studying the ring on my digit. “It’s yours. I wanted you to have it.”
He started to retreat, but I held him to me, gripped his big hand. “Thank you.”
A nod before he let go, let me go, and I didn’t know why. Had I said something?
“I was worried when you didn’t come by,” I admitted. “I see now why. You’re still in bed. Are you still sick? Mom and Rick wouldn’t tell me anything.”
He wouldn’t look at me, as if he was lost and wanted that sun through his window to take him away. After a beat, his attention shifted my way. “Over the worst. Just had a bad reaction to the anesthesia. I get to leave tomorrow, though. My moms are in town. They’re going to make sure I get back to campus okay.”
That made me happy they were here, that he was staying. Hopefully, despite all this we’d both still be able to finish the semester strong and graduate on time.
I nodded. “That’s good. I’m glad.”
“Yeah. And don’t be mad at Dad and your mom. I told them not to tell you anything. Didn’t want you to worry about me.”
Well, it hadn’t worked.
And I noticed he called him… Dad.
I recalled his final texts that he’d sent me, the ones about my adoptive father and what had happened. Jaxen said Dad had lied to him, but they’d also worked whatever the issue was out. It seemed they really had.
There was no malice there when he spoke about him and I’d be more happy about that if I could get him to actually look at me. Jaxen was avoiding my eyes, like he couldn’t keep my gaze and I didn’t understand.
“Are you regretting what you did or…” I chewed my lip, shaking my head. “I mean, I’m glad you’re okay. Going home? And thank you. You saved my life.”
A million times over and I wouldn’t be able to thank him enough. I was alive because of him.
But my words certainly didn’t help the situation. If anything, it caused tension to stir. Jaxen did nothing but frown in response, his jaw tight. He worked his hair and he returned to his back.
“You’re in here because of me, Girl Scout,” he admitted, eyes suddenly sad. He faced me. “Had I not been sending you all those texts, you wouldn’t even have been in this situation. They told me you’d been texting. Texting me?” He shook his head. “I never should have…”
I took his hand.
And this time I didn’t let go.
A breath escaped his chest, appearing how I felt the moment I was wheeled into this room and initially saw him. Like his mere presence gave me life. Like just an ounce of his existence brought me peace.
“Me texting was my fault,” I said, completely true. He hadn’t done anything wrong.
He’d only done something right.
He’d told me how he felt, and that meant more to me than anything else. He’d done that believing I was still mad at him and hadn’t expected anything in response. He’d just wanted me to know the truth.
I smiled. “And did they tell you what I’d said? What I’d been texting you back?”