Dead? Sterling was dead? It probably made me a shitty person for feeling… relieved. The air in my chest moved in easier knowing Sterling wasn’t out there to hurt anyone I loved. An audible exhale released from my lips.
Micah’s head dropped onto my arm. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry. If I—”
I couldn’t stand to see him like this. Broken. I was the one in the hospital bed, but he seemed to be suffering more. Or maybe it was because I was on some good drugs. I slid my fingers into his hair. “Micah. Micah, look at me.” I wanted to see his eyes when I said this. He didn’t just need to hear me. He needed to see the truth of the words on my face. I almost called his name again, but he finally lifted his head. “I don’t blame you.”
He reached to touch me with his free hand but then remembered half my cheek was bandaged. His hand dropped to the bed. “But I do blame myself.” I could see it in his eyes, the guilt, the shame, the pain. It all swam in his gaze, dulling the usual brightness that shone in them.
“Stop.” I swallowed, trying to ease the dryness that scratched my throat. Micah grabbed a glass of water from the tray and handed it to me. I gave him a small smile of thanks as he lifted it to my lips, and I drank a few slow sips.
“Better?” he asked, putting the cup back onto the moving tray.
I nodded, reclining into the pillow. “I can’t let you take on this guilt. The choices and decisions of someone else are not your responsibility. You can speculate all day and night about whether what Sterling said was true, but it won’t change a thing. And the only person who made me follow you last night was me. I owe you my life, Micah. If you hadn’t…”
“I would have died in that building alongside you rather than leave you alone,” he said softly.
“I know.”
He released a breath, his stormy eyes holding mine. “I can’t live without you, Mads. There is no life worth living if you’re not beside me.”
Tugging on his arm, I urged him into bed next to me. I bit my lip against the movement he created lying on his side, not wanting him to see the discomfort even the tiniest jostle caused. I needed him close. He placed a hand over my heart, careful of any bruises I might have suffered on my body and staying away from the wrapped wound on the other side. I buried my face into him, breathing in and not caring about those hints of smoke mixing with his scent. “Stay a little longer,” I muttered.
“I’m not going anywhere. Not as long as you’re here.” Gentle fingers ran through my tangled hair. “I don’t deserve you.”
He didn’t. But my heart only wanted this jerk, flaws and all.
“I promised myself that when you woke up, I would do whatever it takes to make it right between us.” He shifted his head so we lay face-to-face on the shared pillow. “The moment you walked out of my room that morning, I regretted what I’d done. It’s never been easy for me to trust someone with my heart, but I love you, Mads. You mean more to me than I ever thought possible. So much more.”
My eyes misted. I was going to be one of those sappy girls who cried.
“I never want to go back to being that guy whose life was empty and meaningless,” he continued. “You make me want to prove everyone wrong about me. I can be more than a rich asshole who doesn’t take anything seriously. I take us seriously. And that’s what matters to me.”
The tears couldn’t be stopped, but they were happy tears, mostly, falling tenderly down my cheeks. “I’ve waited years to hear you say those words, would have given anything to hear them last week.”
Panic trembled in his eyes. “Mads, I swear—”
“It’s not that,” I quickly interrupted before he thought for another second that I wasn’t accepting him. But I couldn’t stop the shadow of self-doubt. “I love you, Micah. I’ve loved you since I was five years old.”
He caught one of my tears with the pad of his thumb. “What’s wrong?”
“Look at me,” I whimpered.
“I am looking at you,” he said, confusion bunching his brows.
Was it vain to be so concerned about my outward appearance? Yes. But I had just woken up. I had no idea how bad the side of my face was, but I could assume that a reminder of last night would be etched into my cheek—the line of Sterling’s blade running down my face. I was more worried about that wound than the one on my side.
“Who knows what I’ll look like when they take this bandage off?” The admission felt like sandpaper on my tongue that had nothing to do with the smoke damage.
He propped his hand on the side of his temple, glancing down at me. “You think I give a shit about a possible little scar?” He ran a finger over my trembling bottom lip. “We all have scars, Mads. Not all of them are visible, but they’re there all the same. Sometimes it’s those invisible wounds that cut deeper than any outward scar. I have more than most, and not once have you seen me only for the wrong I’ve done or the damage I’ve created. You see all of me. Accept all of me. Love all of me. Why would you think I wouldn’t do the same?”
The injury was so raw. I should be thankful I survived instead of wallowing in vanity, but I also thought I needed to mourn the old Mads to be able to embrace the girl I would be. “I think I might need some time to process everything.”
Dipping his head, he lightly dragged his lips over mine. “You will always be my Mads no matter what, and if you want space, I can give you that, for as long as you need.”
I shook my head. “Space is the last thing I want. At least from you.”
His lips hovered over mine. “I can do less space. Is this better?” Glint sparkled in the eyes that held mine with a heated promise.
“Almost,” I whispered, catching the front of his shirt and pulling him to me.