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I’m not leaving.
Not leaving until I can see Dave.
Until I can talk to him.
Until I can tell him that I love him.
Twenty-four hours later, Dave is still in the ICU.
But I heave a sigh of relief when Bryce and Marjorie tell me his prognosis is good.
I still haven’t been able to see him.
“When can I see him?” I ask.
“He’s awake now,” Marjorie says. “And he’s asking for you.”
I don’t bother to thank them or say anything else. I simply run toward his room in the ICU.
As soon as I enter the room, the blood freezes in my veins. I have to use every muscle in my body to not burst into tears at the sight of him.
He looks so pale and weak lying in the bed, his body attached to so many machines.
The beep of his pulse.
An IV in his arm.
I have no idea what I look like. And I don’t care.
I’m still wearing the dress from our supposed date. I guess he’ll see me in it after all.
I walk in tentatively. “Dave?”
He turns his head slowly. He’s not smiling, but why would he be? He has a bandage over one eye, and some other scratches and bruises on his face.
But to me he’s still the best-looking man in the world.
I sit in the chair next to the bed and take his hand. “I was so scared.”
“Sorry about our date,” he croaks out.
I shake my head, sending a tear flying off my cheek. “Please don’t worry about that.”
He twists his lips into a crooked smile. “You look…beautiful.”
I can’t help laughing. “I’ve seen myself in the mirror. I have raccoon eyes, a swollen red nose. I’m a mess.”
“I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.” Then he closes his eyes.
I cup his cheek. “I know you need your sleep, but I need to tell you something. I need to tell you that I love you, Dave Simpson. I should have said it last week. I knew it. But I… I was scared. I was trying to figure so much else out. But I love you. I love you so much.”
He smiles wider, sort of. His lips are cracked and chapped. “That hurts.”
“Then don’t say anything.”
“I’ll say only this…” He reaches his hand out.
I grab it.
