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I did what he asked, and he picked a new and clean cotton ball.
“It’s going to sting, but you know that already. Hold me if you need to.”
He didn’t have to say it twice. I turned to face him and leaned my bottom against the sink, stretching my neck before gripping his soft sweater.
“What’s your favorite color?” he asked.
“What?”
“I’m trying to keep your mind somewhere else. Now, answer.”
I looked up to his eyes, and said, “Blue,” the same moment the cotton ball stung my wound and my jaw shut painfully.
“What kind of blue?”
“The lightest shade,” I whimpered. “The kind so rare that almost looks like ice blue when it catches the sky.”
“What about your favorite memory?” His voice sounded distant as I thought back to the time my mother was alive.
“I was six the first time I met the ocean.” He cleaned the wound as I spoke, but I couldn’t feel the pain, not when all my thoughts were consumed by her. “Seagulls squawked all around my mother and me as we fed them. Others gave us dirty looks for bringing the birds so close to them, but she didn’t care. Every time a bird took a piece of bread from my fingers, I squeaked, and my mother laughed. She laughed so much that day, and I loved seeing her smile. We ate at the beach, she’d made my favorite. Turkey sandwiches with chips inside. The chips didn’t crunch with every bite I took anymore, but it was perfect as she’d cut the crust ends off the bread for me.” He was getting closer to the middle of the slash, bringing me back from the memory with pain.
“What else did you do?” he asked quickly, and his breath blew across my neck, flying me back in time.
“She had a small radio, a tape recorder, and her favorite old rock song came on. She stood and danced, and reached her hand for me to take. She twirled me around on the shoreline while waves crashed, seagulls sang, and we danced to the music until the sun faded, ending the day, but never her smile.”
I opened my eyes and found his green ones, as his finger ran across the new tape that held the clean piece of gauze onto my neck.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He ran his thumb under my eyes, catching a tear.
“No, thank you for sharing such a memory.”
I gripped his sweater tightly with a faint smile. “You are going to be an amazing doctor.”
He chuckled. “Thank you, I hope one day I will.”
I jogged to the idling car waiting for me across the street. My legs were beginning to fail me, but I snatched the passenger door handle and climbed inside.
Martin was waiting in the driver’s seat, but as the door swung shut, his eyes took in our surroundings before he sped away. His car still held the scent only a new car would, and inside this clean car, I could see more of him. The expensive and put together life he had.
“I’m paying for two nights at the hotel. This should give you enough time to get the bus ticket for you to disappear.”
“Thank you.” I touched his hand where it rested on the manual shift stick between us, and said it again, “Really, thank you, for everything.”
He smirked, sliding his gaze back to the road. “What kind of fiancé would I be?” That earned him a small chuckle from me. “Now, rest. I can see how much making it out of the hospital took from you.”
He was right, I felt weak. I closed my eyes and rested my head on the cool window.
We quickly made it to the hotel where I would be staying.
Martin rolled the car into a parking space and shut off the engine.
“I thought you were only dropping me off.”
“I just want to get the key and walk you inside.”
“Okay.”
