The Counting-Downers (31 page)

A FEW HOURS later, Doctor Rodriguez leads me into Tristan’s hospital room. I inhale at the sight of my everything reduced to almost nothing, as he lies pale and still in the too-small bed. My horrified eyes make their way around his body, taking in his broken leg, which is elevated in a cast, and his face, which is barely distinguishable behind the bruising.

I look around to gauge the doctor’s reaction on whether this is normal, to find him gone. I’m left alone with Tristan, although technically he’s not present, so I’m by myself. All of a sudden, I’m reluctant to go any further. My feet are heavy, resisting my movements as I try to shuffle forward to his bedside. It’s almost as if it will become real if I touch him. And none of this seems real to me right now.

In the blink of the same eyes that saw him go from happiness to lifeless, I’m beside him. My free arm hovers over his.
This is Tristan
, I chant to remind myself, trying to overcome my sudden hesitation.
He needs you
. I force my hand down and gasp when our skin and souls reconnect.

And even though I thought I’d expended every ounce of water in my body, fresh tears spring to the surface. I crumple. I just…
crumple
.

I collapse sobbing onto Tristan’s chest, which is moving with the help of a ventilator. Sensing his pain, although I know he can’t feel it, makes me cry harder. That’s the thing with people like me, ‘sensitive souls’ as my dad would say. I’m a feeler. I feel everything deep within my core. Even when I don’t want to. I don’t know where my
emotions
stop and my
empathy
begins. I
feel
from the tips of my toes to the follicles of my head. I
feel
with every fiber, every molecule, every tissue, marrow, muscle, and bone in my body. I
feel
.

And right now, I feel more than my battered body can handle. All of the excess emotion floods out of my reddened green eyes and into the thin material of Tristan’s hospital gown.

But that’s the thing about feelings. They can’t be contained. Like caged birds, they plot their bid for freedom, knowing they need to escape one way or the other. The longer you keep them captive, the more volatile their exit.

My tears fall like debris after an emotional explosion. After an indeterminate amount of time, they settle until all that remains are the aftershocks, which manifest themselves in the shaking of my body as I hiccup without noise or tears, struggling to fight my way through the mountain of pain. I’m not better, but I am calmer.

Taking in an unconscious Tristan, my breathing continues to slow as a gradual sense of peace settles over me. My dramatics are over. He’s as grounding a force comatose as he is when awake. That sums us up. Tristan is content to let me fly and feel, but I only do so safe in the knowledge that he’ll bring me back down when it’s time.

It’s time.

“Hey, Goldilocks.” I greet my unconscious boyfriend. “You’ve looked better, but you’re still beautiful to me. You know when you’re the most beautiful though? When your eyes are open, and you look at me as if I’m the only thing left in the world. Like everything else has faded away until all you see is me. You
see
me. Remember when you told me that? Well, I need you to open your eyes so you can keep seeing me. Because nobody sees me like you do, and without you, I’ll be invisible. I exist because you see me.

“Before, I was just a free spirit drifting through life, but you made me real. You’re my center, my ground, my anchor. And without you I’ll either sink or float away, I’m not sure which yet.

“So you need to come back to me. Because we have a lot of living to do. Remember? I told you I hoped I was able to spend my last ten minutes on earth with you, and you said that
‘even if we only have ten minutes left, a whole lot of living can be done in that time
.’ We have so much life left to live together.

“I hope when you open your eyes that you remember. I need you to remember us, remember
me
. But even if you don’t, just come back to me so that I can remind you. Because a love like ours is worth fighting for, and more than that, it’s worth
living
for. In this, and every lifetime to come, I’ll always find you and bring you back to me. You’re not just my lighthouse, showing me the way home, you
are
my home. And I’m yours. It’s time to come home, Tristan.”

I continue to ramble, repeating myself until my voice is hoarse and my eyes are heavy. As my breathing calms and evens to match the cadence of the machine, I rest my broken heart over his broken body and fall head first into a fitful, dreamless sleep.

TRISTAN WOKE UP a few hours ago and so far, everything seems okay. Well, as okay as it can be when you’ve just looked death in the eyes, only to win the staring contest. For now.

This battle may be over, but the war will never be won by the living. Death always wins in the end. No matter how many times life calls for a rematch.

He seems a bit disorientated and doesn’t remember crossing the road or being hit, but otherwise he seems to remember everything else. Typical of Tristan, he was more concerned with my pain than his own.

I thanked deities I don’t even believe in when I woke up with a start to him stroking the backs of his gentle fingers against my cheek. I couldn’t control the elation that lit up my body, even as I try to ignore the lingering traces of fear which still cling to my skin like a rash.

Now, I’m propped up against his bed as I play with our entwined fingers. They’re pretty much the only part of his body I can touch which won’t cause him to wince in pain.

“Thank you for saving me,” I tell him, desperate to convey the depth of my gratitude through my tone and my eyes.

“It’s only fair since you saved me first.” His voice is scratchy with underuse and the tube in his throat they recently removed, but his statement is firm and clear.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. More than you can know, or I can express.”

“Well then that makes two of us.”

“Kiss me.”

“Bossy.”

Still, I bend to comply with his rasping command. His body jolts as it becomes more passionate, causing me to straighten from the awkward position and give him a chastising look.

“Be careful. You’ve just come back to me. I want you to stick around.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” I glance up at the numbers counting down above his head. If only that were true. This whole ordeal has left me shaken to my core and I’m still experiencing the after-effects. I rub my free hand down my thigh to hide its shaking.

“Hey.” His voice is soft in concern. I’m sure his eyebrows are furrowing with worry underneath the bandage around his head. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I lie, knowing I’m anything but. “Are
you
okay?”

“I’m with you,” he says simply. I smile, knowing he’s echoing a previous conversation we had. Beneath the love upon hearing his words, lies relief that he remembers moments like that between us.

“Baby Bear, did they give you a bag of my stuff?”

“Yes, why?”

“Do you know where it is?”

“Yeah, it’s here.” I push up from the bed and walk over to the chair in the far corner where my things are resting. I lift up my cardigan to retrieve the clear plastic bag with the items the paramedics collected from the scene.

“Here you go. Not much in there. I took out my stopwatch and the rest was only what was in your pockets.”

He rummages through the bag, looking for something. His house and car keys jangle as his movements become more and more frantic. He seems almost… agitated. Nervous. The same emotions I feel right now, but for a different reason.

“What are you looking for?”

“I… Don’t worry.” He sags back against the bed in relief. “I found it.”

“Found what?”

“This.” He pulls out a small black leather box with the name of a famous jeweler written on the front. If I thought my hand was shaking before, that was nothing compared to the tremors running through it now.

“Tristan…”

“Matilda, I know this isn’t ideal, and it’s not how I had planned it, but I don’t want to waste another second. This whole ordeal has put things into even sharper perspective for me like I’m sure it’s done for you.”

Speechless, all I can do is nod, numb.

“I had this whole speech prepared for weeks, I know how much words mean to you, but now the moment is here, they don’t seem right. What it comes down to, is the fact that you’re not just The One; you’re
everything
. I don’t know what I did right to have heaven send me an angel, but I know better than to question it.

“You may not know it or see it, but you saved me. Then changed me. For the better. I’m not as eloquent as you, so I can’t put into words what I feel whenever I’m around you, but I know that I want to keep feeling it for the rest of my life. You’ve made me love life, and now I want to live it. With you. Forever. Would you do me the absolute honor of—”

Without thinking, my free hand slams down on the one that was about to open the ring box. His head shoots up as the hopeful smile slides off his face to be replaced with hurt and confusion.

“…Til?”

This is as excruciating as it is unbearable. “I… Tristan… it…”

“It what?” he demands. His anger is justified. By all means, my acceptance should be a foregone conclusion, but something is holding the excited joy and affirmative answer back. They’re there, but they’re in the background, trapped and begging to be set free.

“It’s just… a surprise, that’s all. I didn’t see this coming. It seems so sudden. You’ve just had your accident and now you’re proposing.”

“Baby Bear.” He sighs with what sounds like relief and a bit of frustration. “Nothing is sudden about it. This was always where we were headed. We’re soulmates. We’re of marrying age. We’ve been together for over a year, although I knew I wanted to marry you from day one. Plus we both know how precious time is, so what do we have to lose?”

Everything
, is the answer that rushes into my mind, unbidden, but I know I shouldn’t voice it. So I don’t. But I think it. And feel it.

“You said it yourself; we’re inevitable, so why rush?”

“We’re inevitable, so why wait?”

“Because we’re too young!”

“That’s crap and you know it. What happened to living for today? You’re a hypocrite. When you don’t practice what you preach, those sacred words you believe in just become empty. I didn’t have you down as a coward, Til.”

“Well, this is just the most romantic proposal ever.”

“Look, I didn’t mean to insult you. I get it. I do. You’re scared of what even more commitment will mean for us when we have to leave each other behind one day.”

“I’m not scared, Tristan. I’m terrified.”

“We have each other; there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“It’s because we have each other that there’s
everything
to be afraid of.”

“Aren’t you the one who told me that it was better to be courageous than fearless, because not feeling
any
fear wasn’t healthy and could get you into trouble, but courage was
feeling
fear but doing it anyway? You’re the most courageous person I know, Matilda. Out of all the hurdles and obstacles you’ve faced, why are you letting fear win now?”

“I don’t know. I’m not. Can I just think about it? I’m not saying no, I’m just asking for some time.”

“That’s ironic.”

“Why?”

“Part of the reason I’m asking is because time is running out with every second you hesitate.”

“And there I was, thinking you were proposing because you loved me and couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life with me.”

“Don’t you understand that they’re the same thing?” he yells, receiving a disapproving look from a nurse through the window as she walks past the door to his hospital room. We both blush in embarrassment and he lowers his voice to a furious, frustrated whisper.

“I’m only worried about time running out, because I have you. I don’t know how long ‘the rest of my life’ is! I could die tomorrow for all I know. In fact, the only thing I know for sure is that I don’t want to spend another day without you by my side. Even if I only have one day left, I would want it to be spent with you.”