Last Kiss

I wasn’t allowed to leave the hospital until the doctor gave me the clear, and Megan refused to tell me anything else about Kris. So to my utter dismay, I was forced to remain on the stiff bed in excruciating ignorance, slipping in and out of consciousness, desperately willing my wound to heal.

I quickly realized that it was easy to keep my body from moving. Unfortunately, my mind didn’t exactly get the memo. It raced furiously with thoughts of confusion and worry, a mess of concerns parading through my mind with a metaphorical trumpet fanfare. I wondered if someone was going to bail out Kris. I wondered what he had done to Max. I also wondered how he had sobered up enough to come looking for me.

When I left Kris at Consol, he had been completely smashed. I knew that what he said to me was simply a product of the alcohol and disappointment. But only an hour or so had passed from the time I left him in the depths of the arena to the time I ran out into the hallway and saw him there. Now, I’ve only gone drinking twice in my life since turning 21, but I know that the likelihood of Kris coming to my rescue sober is about a million to none. Yet he was there. How?

And why had he gone after Max? Well, the answer was obvious—to get revenge on hurting me. After all, I had to beg Kris to keep from going after Max earlier, hadn’t I? I recalled the day that we visited Commonplace Coffee, and Kris had stormed out with the intention of going after him. I had managed to stop him then, but later, in the parking garage, I had asked him what we were going to do about Max.

Kris’s eyes instantly went dark. “Simple. I’ll kill him.” The conviction in his tone assured me that he fully intended on backing his statement up. A small shiver at the power in his words ran up my spine.

Is that what Kris had done? Had he tried to kill Maxime Talbot? I carefully shook my head as a thought flashed into my head. Had he succeeded?

Megan refused to answer any of my questions, but over the next three days, she barely left my side. She slept in the chair, twisted uncomfortably to accommodate for the small space. She bought her meals at the hospital and chose to eat in my room. Truly, the only times she left were for brief trips home to shower. When I asked her why, she simply shook her head and replied, “I promised Kris I’d stay.”

I didn’t push the question, because honestly, I appreciated her company. After all, if she wasn’t there, I would have been entirely alone.

As soon as I had woken up the first time, she asked me who I wanted her to call to inform about the attack. After a moment of thought, I told her that I didn’t want anyone to know.

“You don’t want anyone to know?” Megan asked with a frown. “But why not?”

I sighed lightly and looked away. Extending one hand, I traced a small circle on the blanket covering me. Even this small gesture sent stabs of pain shooting through my side. I frowned lightly in disappointment. Would I ever feel okay again?

“I don’t want to worry them,” I finally answered, flicking my eyes back to meet hers. “I don’t need their pity or concern. I’m alive, and that’s all that matters. They don’t need to know.”

Megan was silent for a long moment, her gaze never leaving mine. Finally, she sighed and shook her head. “Alright,” she conceded, “I won’t tell anyone.” She paused for a long moment, as though trying to figure out what to say. “You know, you remind me of someone…” she began, trailing off.

I waited for her to continue. After a minute, I realize she wasn’t going to. “Who?” I prompted gently, unable to mask the curiosity in my voice.

I could tell that she didn’t want to answer. She stared at me for a long time, clearly debating on what to say. I was about to change the topic, feeling guilty for making her uncomfortable, when she blurted out, “Kris’s mom. Auntie Christine.”

I instantly frowned. That night during finals week, Kris had talked about his mother. He had described her as this cold woman, never free with praise. He said that she was loving, but in her own way. And I knew that he was scared to death of disappointing her. I’ll admit that I’m not exactly a “happy-go-lucky” person, but I didn’t think I had anything in common with this woman.

Megan must have noticed my expression, and she chuckled lightly. Her hand gently took mine as she smiled. “Audrey, it’s not a bad thing. Auntie Christine is a strong woman. She’d independent and fierce. She knows how to do what’s best for those she cares about, and she does it. After all, she has to. She doesn’t get a choice anymore.”

“What do you mea—“ I began to ask, but Megan quickly interrupted.

“I think you should get some more sleep,” she said softly, retreating back to her chair. “After all, sleep heals, and the sooner you get better, the sooner you can leave.”

And that was the end of that.

I spent three days in the hospital—three agonizingly long days. When the doctor came in to check my wound on the third day, I knew that I had to get out of there. I was prepared to act completely normal, jumping and twisting and turning in the air despite any pain I felt. I needed to leave. I needed to find out what happened between Max and Kris.

I’m the kind of person who revels in the sheer bliss of doing absolutely nothing. I can stare at walls and make up stories inside of my head endlessly. I lie awake for hours before falling asleep, lost inside the world of my thoughts. But everyone has a limit. Mine had been reached 72 hours ago when I awoke in the hospital without Kris by my side.

Luckily, I didn’t need to put on much of an act. The doctor took my bandage off and looked at the wound, writing a few marks down in his book. He asked me to sit up, then lie back down. He took my vitals and wrote more numbers. I wanted to squirm with impatience, but I refrained. I needed to be cool. I needed to be collected.

An almost unbearable moment of silence passed, and then the doctor looked up at me with a smile. He asked if I wanted to go home.

Cool and collected vanished in an instant. I couldn’t even choke out my answer. It took all of my strength to simply nod an affirmative, because I was trying too hard to keep from crying. “Of course I want to go home, ” I thought. “I need to find out what happened. I want to get out of here.”

The paperwork seemed to take ages, and I couldn’t help but tune out the nurse as she gave me discharge instructions. Megan helped me change from my hospital gown into a pair of jeans and a t shirt. I glanced in the mirror and frowned lightly at the mess of my hair before pulling it back into a ponytail.

Then, for the first time in a long time, I smiled. I was going home. I was alive. With that, I carefully lowered myself into a wheelchair, then Megan was pushing me out through the double doors and into the bright June sunshine.

I had forgotten how hot it was. It seems like a silly thing to forget, but it’s true. The warmth was welcome on my skin though, and I carefully stretched out my arms, soaking in the Vitamin D. When Megan wheeled me into the parking garage, I whined a little in protest. I wanted to stay out in the sun for a little bit longer.

That’s when I saw him. He was leaning against a shiny black Audi, a car that I definitely hadn’t seen before. He wore a dark green v-neck and khaki shorts, and his trademark hair lightly fell over his eyes…those dark, gentle eyes laced with concern that were trained on me.

I didn’t even think; I just let my body react. Suddenly, I was on my feet and I was running towards him. I don’t know how I managed to run when even walking was a challenge. I don’t remember any pain, though surely it must have hurt. I didn’t think about Max; I didn’t question why or how Kris was there when he hadn’t even visited me in the hospital. All I could think about was being in his arms.

And a millisecond later, I was.