“We’re here,” the cab driver grunts out.
I dive my hands into my purse, inside my backpack, and pull out the last of the cash I had left over from the shopping trip with Brandon earlier in the day. After I shove a few bills into his hands and tell him to keep the change, I climb out of the cab and practically limp into the hospital. My entire body aches from the exertion. I’m sure it doesn’t help that all I’ve had to eat today since lunch was a Snickers bar I’d procured from the bus station vending machine. I can barely keep my eyes open but the adrenaline fuels me in my effort to find War.
“I’m looking for Warren McPherson,” I say to an older woman manning the front desk. Her long grey hair is pulled into a ponytail and she looks up at me with kind eyes.
“Sure honey,” she chirps, way too friendly for as late as it is. “Looks like he’s in room 1200.” The same number as his alarm code back home.
1-2-0-0
He’s alive. A feeling of warmth that I hadn’t felt since Gabe ripped me away from War coats my insides at hearing that room number.
My heart flutters in my chest and I beam at her. “Thank you!”
“Wait,” she says, and then frowns. “Visiting hours were over three and a half hours ago. I’m afraid I can’t let you go back there.”
The emotions from the past four months overwhelm me and I burst into tears. Loud, ugly sobs. She quickly stands and comes out from behind the desk to pull me into a hug.
“Oh, honey.”
“He—he—he doesn’t know he’s going to be a father…please,” I tell her through my tears. “I thought he was dead. I need to see him. Please.”
She pats my head and pulls away, gracing me with a kind smile. “Come on,” she says in a whisper. “It’s my break. I’ll take you there. You’ve been through a lot, honey. That much I can see.”
I hug her back to me. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
With her arm over my shoulder, she guides me down the complicated web of hallways and to his room. The hallway is dim. His door is pushed forward, but not shut. “Go on, honey. Go see your man,” she says and winks, “but if they catch you in there, you tell them you snuck in there yourself.”
Nodding profusely, I thank her one more time before slipping into the dark room. The sound of a heart monitor is music to my ears because it confirms he’s alive, just like Rita had said. But panic sets in. What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if he’s regressed and the thought of my touch horrifies him? I swallow down my fears and take a few steps into the room. Peeking my head around the corner, I nearly cry out with joy.
My War.
His large frame fills the entire bed and a simple white blanket covers him. He’s wearing a standard hospital gown and his hair’s a mess. I crave to smooth it out of his eyes and rain kisses all over his beautiful face.
Approaching slowly, I shed my backpack along the way. I drop it to the floor and take his warm hand in mine.
“Oh, God,” I barely choke out before sobs wrack through my entire body.
He jerks slightly, waking up. His full lashes fluttering to reveal the navy-colored eyes that complete my existence. The entire world fades away except for the both of us, two halves of a perfect whole. Two magnets drawn together by unmeasurable forces. “Bay?” his sleepy voice rasps out. “Is this a dream?”
My eyes find his half-lidded ones and my tears blur the man before me for a moment. “Not a dream. I’m here and you’re alive.”
His hand squeezes around mine and he tugs me to him. Bliss. All I know is this is bliss. My heart, so broken and bloody, is rapidly healing with every second in his presence. I blink a few times to let the tears escape and he comes back into view.
“Thank God,” he murmurs and pulls me until our faces are inches apart. “I’ve been going out of my fucking mind worrying about you. God I’ve missed you.”
I drop my lips to his and kiss him tenderly. His lips aren’t soft like usual, they’re cracked and dry but they’re perfection to me. I’ve missed them so much. We remain barely touching—simply inhaling one other. He’s hurt and I’m afraid I’ll make it worse if I even move. But then his fingers thread into my hair and he palms the back of my skull, pulling me closer. The hunger—the all-consuming urgency—explodes through him and I fall into him. Just like each and every time. I can’t help but get swept up in the incredible hurricane that is him. He pulls me into the eye of his storm where it’s safe and calm. War loves me with the gentleness no other can give to me while the chaos ensues around us.