As the Dawn Breaks (12 page)

Not wanting to leave the hospital while she’s in surgery, I join Christian and Sarah for a quick bite to eat in the hospital cafeteria. They seem to be in better spirits now that they’ve been able to talk to their son, but with Katrina still far from being out of the woods, we are all still cautiously optimistic. A short while later, we return to find her in recovery, and they believe they’ve found the issue—a perforation in her small intestines. Fingers crossed, they’ve rectified the issue and they’ll allow her to return to consciousness soon. I’ll feel so much better once I see her eyes open and hear her speak.

Another hour spent with her during the night visitation, I continue my storytelling; this time I relive our funniest moments together. First, I remind her of the time I tied her to the tree to test out my rope knotting skills, which subsequently led to her peeing in her pants, ‘cause I couldn’t untie all of it fast enough. Then there was the afternoon I attempted to teach her to drive a stick shift—key word:
attempted.

By the end of my time, fat tears of laughter are streaming down my face, and I’m not quite positive, but I think I saw her lips twitch a little.
Maybe she can hear me.
Either way, I have no intentions of stopping. I’m already counting the hours until I can return in the morning to check on her and continue talking to her, reminding her how much she’s loved.

I wish Lucca’s parents a good night. Their son’s continued recovery will also be a part of my prayers tonight. I catch a cab to my hotel, and since I’ve already showered, I lie down on the bed, atop the covers, t-shirt, jeans, and shoes still on, and fall into a hard, fast sleep. Between the overnight flight and the stress of the day, my mind and body have both raised the white flag in surrender.

The following morning, waking early to get to the ICU wing, I’m still extremely exhausted, but even more disappointed to find out I won’t be able to see Katrina during the early morning visiting hours. She’s back in radiology having tests ran to see if yesterday’s surgery was successful. Thinking I’ll drop in to visit with Lucca for a bit, I’m surprised to find his room empty as well. Thankfully, there’s a nurse passing by as I emerge, who tells me he’s in transit being moved to a regular room, and a slight glimmer of hope shoots through me. Maybe today will be full of good news all around. I leave yet again feeling a bit like a boomerang, back and forth from the hospital to the hotel, and I grab a quick bite to eat before slipping in a few more hours of shut-eye.

I crawl out of the taxi just before midday. The scorching August sun beats down on me, drawing out a light sweat, even in the minimal strides it take me to get from the car to the hospital door. Finally feeling rested and refreshed, I enter optimistic, keeping the faith. Stepping into the elevator alone, I punch the button for the second floor, and as the doors begin to shut, I hear someone call out, “Wait! Hold that elevator, please!”

Instinctively, my arm shoots out in-between the closing doors, triggering the motion sensor and forcing them to reopen. The petite, young woman, donned in a white doctor’s coat, doesn’t look up at me when she first steps into the lift. She’s too busy fumbling around with her purse tangled in her long blonde hair, duffel bag twisted around her elbow, and phone falling to the floor. Being the gentleman my mama always raised me to be, I bend down to pick her cell up for her at the exact moment she does the same.

“Oh, thank you. I’m so sorry,” she says softly.

Then, as if I’ve stepped directly out of reality and into a dream, one I’ve had
at least
seven hundred and seventy-two times, my senses are inundated with an intimate familiarity—the sweet voice of an angel, the arousing scent of tropical paradise, and when she finally peers up from the ground, her unforgettable, stunning green eyes. Our stares lock vehemently onto one another’s, neither of us moving from our kneeling position, and I do the only thing I can think to do.

I kiss her.

SUNDAY MORNING DOES NOT
go as planned.

Oversleeping, outdated milk, the gas light coming on in my car, and a fussier-than-normal toddler are all major factors in my running late for the shift I’m covering for Noah.
Not
ideal.

Naturally, by the time I make it into the elevator, I’m a hot mess—figuratively and literally. My hair is knotted around the straps of my purse and bag, which have somehow managed to spiral out of control around my shoulder, and I drop my phone on the floor as I try to type out a text to my sister.

I kneel down to pick it up at the same time as the other person in the lift, who so nicely kept the door open to the slowest elevator on the planet for me, and we nearly bump heads.

“Oh, thank you. I’m so sorry,” I apologize politely.

Then, I look up into the stranger’s eyes…but they’re not so strange at all.

Big, brown, and warm.

Recognizing, remembering, and…
kissing?

His soft, supple lips are pressed against mine; his tongue tenderly strokes, requesting entrance that I grant without a second thought. My hands are full of my belongings, so all I can do is stay right where I am, frozen on my knees, and kiss him back.

The elevator dings, jolting me back to reality. As the door opens, which I didn’t realize ever closed in the first place, I pull away and scramble to my feet, then take off to the closest women’s restroom I can find, completely uncaring I’m on the wrong floor.

Splashing water from the sink onto my face, I stare at my reflection with bewilderment. I’ve officially lost my mind. I really need to sleep more at night or something, because I’m apparently not handling the stress of work, school, and motherhood as well as I originally thought. I’m now imagining strange men are Leo and kissing them in elevators!

It takes several minutes before I’m ready to reappear from the bathroom, and with each step towards the door, I pray whoever
he
is, I won’t see him again. I’ve never been so mortified over my own behavior. Slowly, I push the heavy door open and look both ways, up and down the hallway, to make sure the coast is clear. I exhale a huge sigh of relief when no one out of the ordinary is in sight and hurry back over to the elevators. I’m now
really
late for Noah’s shift.

Twelve long hours on my feet, and the only thing on my mind is a nice, hot, relaxing bath. Well, that’s not completely true. Despite staying relatively busy throughout the day, my mind continues to wander back to
the kiss
.

As I wait for my supervisor to read through my shift reports, I bring my fingers to my mouth, lightly tracing my lips as I remember how perfect it had felt, just like Leo’s lips, and I wonder if I hallucinated the entire thing. I know Leo’s not here, not in this hospital, not in this city, not even in this country.

Maybe I’ve been holding out hope he’d realize the connection we had and come back one day.

Maybe after two years I just need to let it go.

Once I’m given the okay to leave, I swiftly gather my things and head for the exit; my morning class will come quicker than I’d like. Stepping out into the tepid, midnight air, I give Sammy, the night security guard, a brisk nod and smile before turning towards the direction of my car.

And that’s when I see
him
. Again.

Dressed in the same navy t-shirt and jeans from earlier, he’s leaning against the side of the building, hands in pockets, waiting for something…or someone. Our eyes meet and I suck in a sharp intake of air; I
must
be delusional. His gaze—those oh-so-familiar brown eyes—beckon me to him. I have to get closer. I have to prove to myself it’s not really him. My pulse increases exponentially with each and every stride I take in his direction, as does my internal body temperature, leaving me burning from the inside out by the time I’m within a few feet.

“Trystan,” he rasps, low and throaty, almost as if it hurts him to say my name.

His voice stops me dead in my tracks, my heart now threatening to explode with a multitude of emotions. “Leo,” I whisper in return, unsure of what else to say.

“Come here, beautiful,” he opens his arms with an inviting smile.

Launching myself into his embrace, I don’t hesitate a single second. I’m not sure why he’s here, or even if this
is
some crazy dream, but I don’t care. I’ll deal with my disappointment when I wake up.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he murmurs into my hair, holding me tight against his body. “You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this moment.”

“What are you doing here? How did you know? How long have you been here?” I fire questions at him as they inundate my mind, pulling back marginally so I can see his face, my brain still confirming it’s really him…he’s really standing right in front of me.

He brings his strong hands to my face, cupping my jaw as his thumbs gently caress my cheeks. I know the smile on his face is reflected on mine; I can physically feel the joy beaming out of my body. “I’ve got so much to tell you, Trystan, so much to explain,” he bends down to rest his forehead on mine, “but I know you’ve got to be tired. You’ve been here all day. When can we sit and talk?”

“Uh, ummm, I’m not sure.” I try to think, try to remember what my schedule is for the next few days, but it’s useless. My brain activity has melted into a puddle of,
This isn’t a dream at all.
Leo’s really standing right in front of me, talking to me and touching me.

Chuckling softly, he lowers his face to mine, hovering less than an inch from my lips, waiting for my approval, then delivers a tender kiss full of understanding. “I’m just as overwhelmed as you are, Trystan, believe me. Do you want to call me tomorrow and let me know? It’s late, and I’m sure you need to get home tonight to the baby.”

“No,” I insist; any semblance of tired I was feeling floated away the second he uttered my name, “I’m fine now, if you are. She’s staying the night with my sister, since I had to be here.”

I know I sound a bit desperate, but I don’t want to let him out of my sight, afraid he’ll disappear again if I do. Something in the back of my mind whispers I’ve got something important to do in the morning, but for the life of me, I can’t remember what it is right now. Aurora is safe and taken care of, and that’s the only true concern I have.

He grins and kisses me again. “Come on then, beautiful. We’ve got a lot to catch up on and a sunrise to watch.”

FROM THE MOMENT TRYSTAN
dashes out of the elevator, I can’t stop thinking about her and what all of this means. Even when I am sitting with Katrina during the midday visitation, her citrusy scent lingers in my nose, the feel of her sultry lips tattooed on mine, and my mind is continually focused on Trys—what she’s doing here, how she’s even more beautiful than I remember, and what my next move is. I wanted to wait for her outside the bathroom she scurried into, but decided we both needed some time to organize our thoughts. Plus, I needed to get a Katrina update, since I wasn’t able to see her this morning.