Page 109 of Don’t Go Breaking My Heart

KANNON

Pain had a way of making everything sharper, more vivid. The fluorescent lights above me buzzed faintly, their hum merging with the steady beeping of the machines. My body ached from head to toe. When I came to with a bright light shining in my eyes, I thought for sure I was about to see some pearly gates. Not that I had earned my halo but I figured maybe someone had taken pity on me.

My first thought had been Merritt. I didn’t want to die before I could tell her I was sorry. That I was a total jackass but I was a jackass that loved her. Just when I had resigned myself to spend the rest of eternity regretting my foolish mistake, I heard voices. A lot of them. They were all yelling at me.

And then I felt the pain. That told me I was alive.

I didn’t know how much time had passed from the moment I saw those headlights coming at me until now. Time had blurred. I was locked in a haze of pain and regret. People wearing white and a few in blue were poking and prodding at me. I felt my clothes being pulled away from me and somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I was naked, but I was helpless to do anything about it.

My ears picked up fragments of conversations. “BP dropping.” “Get the imaging results now.” And so on. They were talking about me as if I wasn’t right there, which I guess made sense, given that I wasn’t really able to participate. But it bothered me, the way their discussions hovered around me, detached yet invasive.

As they wheeled me through those too white hallways, a roaring in my ears grew louder. The pain meds must have started kicking in because despite the physical agony, a strange detachment began to seep through my consciousness. I thought about Merritt again, her face when she found out I was hurt. I did remember telling them to call Riggs. His name was the emergency contact in my phone, but I had no idea if my phone was shattered. I hoped someone called him. I didn’t want to do this alone.

That was the last thing I remembered.

And then I felt her. I couldn’t explain how or why but I did. And when I opened my eyes, she was there.

She stood over me, her eyes searching mine. “You look like hell,” she said, her voice trembling and tears welling in her eyes.

I gave her a weak smile. “Good to see you too.”

“What were you thinking?” she demanded, her voice breaking halfway through her question.

I sighed, shifting slightly to try and sit up straighter. It didn’t work. I wasn’t in nearly as much pain, but the drugs were making me feel heavy. My limbs weren’t responding. “Merritt, listen⁠—”

“No, you listen,” she snapped, leaning over me now. “I told you I couldn’t do this. I told you I couldn’t lose someone else. And then you go and⁠—”

“I wasn’t driving like an idiot,” I interrupted. Her mouth snapped shut, but the fire in her eyes didn’t dim. “I wasn’t trying to be reckless. Believe it or not, I was going slow. Not slow, but the speed limit. This wasn’t my fault. I came around a blind corner, and there was a car in my lane. There was nothing I could do.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

“I thought I might die,” I admitted, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “Right there, in that split second, I thought it was over. And all I could think about was you. About how I wouldn’t get the chance to fix everything I messed up with you. How I wouldn’t get to tell you how much you mean to me.”

Her expression softened just a little, but she shook her head, like she was trying to hold on to her anger. “You’re an idiot,” she said, her voice quieter now.

I laughed softly, wincing at the pain that shot through my ribs. “Yeah, I am. But I’m done being an idiot. I’m done with trying to outrun everything I feel. I’m done being anything other than hopelessly, completely in love with you.”

“Kannon—”

“No, let me finish,” I said, cutting her off. My chest tightened, and it wasn’t just from the aching ribs. “I need you, Merritt. I’ll throw myself in front of a car a thousand times over if that’s what it takes for you to forgive me and give me another chance.”

She stared at me for several long seconds, her lips pressed into a thin line. Then, finally, she shook her head again. “Like I said, you’re an idiot. But I love you. And I forgive you. But if you ever scare me like this again, I’ll throw you in front of a car myself. Got it?”

A grin broke across my face, despite the pain. “Got it.”

She leaned down, her lips brushing against mine gently at first, then with more certainty. I kissed her back, every ache and pain momentarily forgotten as we poured everything into that moment.

When she pulled away, her forehead rested against mine, and I could feel her breath against my skin. “So, what exactly are your injuries?” she asked. “I’m serious when I say you look awful. Beautiful but awful.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

Just then, a doctor came in. He looked at Merritt, then me. “Well, I just checked your x-rays,” he said.

“My legs?” I asked.

“In one piece. You’ve got two cracked ribs, but I don’t see any other broken bones.”

“What about his head?” Merritt asked. “I mean, does he have a brain injury?”