The Spark Between Us by Stacy Travis

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Braden

Blue wavesthe color of sapphires washed over me as I floated on a sand-scuffed surfboard, but I had no plans of riding any of the breakers to shore. It felt too good to bob there, safe from sinking into the sea and relieved of the need to paddle to stay afloat.

In the distance, voices at the shoreline spoke in hushed tones, telling me a story about a hedgehog who dreams of going on a space mission. Then he goes on the space mission because he’s the only one small enough to fit in the rocket capsule.

It made no sense.

But I didn’t fight it because the lilting voice telling the story sounded familiar and calming to me.

I also had other wild, technicolor dreams—images of Mitch yelling to people around me and carrying me someplace, the inescapable feeling that I was flying higher and higher in the sky without a parachute or a way to get down to earth. Sounds of sirens. The screech of tires on asphalt. Lots and lots of coughing until I couldn’t speak.

But someone else was speaking, and it was the only sound I wanted to hear.

“Braden? Can you hear me?”

Yes, I can hear you. Keep talking because I don’t want to forget the sound of your voice in case I’m dead and I need to tuck this memory away.

Moving felt impossible. So did speaking.

There were beeps and some buzzing and the general feeling of people surrounding me, talking to each other, and rattling of data and numbers.

The first thing I became aware of was a pair of peaceful blue eyes that saw into my depths, even when I wasn’t sure I had any. Creamy skin that was creased with concern. Plump lips whispering the words to a ridiculous story about a hedgehog.

I’d need to ask her about that later.

I fought against sadness and fear that I was only seeing Sarah’s face because I was dead, and somehow the afterlife had given me something beautiful to look at for all of eternity.

The second thing I became aware of was the warm brush of her fingers against the back of my hand, calmly soothing my nerves and reminding me what love felt like.

“Damsel,” I tried to say, but the words stayed buried for some reason.

She shook her head. “It’s too soon. You can’t talk. There’s damage to your airways. But of course, I want you to talk to me. So much. Just not right now. Let me talk instead.” She was so calm, a vision I wanted to stare at forever. I didn’t need to speak in order to do that.

“They had you in an induced coma for two days. They tried to bring you out yesterday, but your lungs were still too swollen to breathe on your own, so they had to wait another twenty-four hours.”

I nodded. Speaking wasn’t an option, but I managed a grunt. My throat felt like someone had used it for char-grill barbecue and hadn’t swept out the hot ash.

Words couldn’t do justice to the swell of emotion I felt at looking into the clear eyes of the woman I’d fallen in love with despite myself. She was my serenity, and as long as she kept her warm hand clasped around mine, I knew I’d heal.

“Mitch wanted you to know the two kids you saved in that apartment survived. They’re alive because of you, and if you hadn’t gone in there, they probably wouldn’t be. So you should feel proud.” Her voice caught on the last word. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes, but she swallowed them back, trying to be tougher than I knew she was.

I reached for her and cupped her face with my hand. I took her other hand and held it to my heart. She’d know the words even if I couldn’t say them.

“I’m going to stay with you until you’re discharged. Mitch arranged it so I can sleep here.” She pointed to a pink chair that looked like the world’s most uncomfortable place to sleep. All I could do was nod.

I wanted to say so much more. Ironic that when I was finally desperate to tell her how much I loved her, I couldn’t speak at all.

“Now that you’re awake, I’m going to run home and shower. Trust me, you’ll like me a lot better when I don’t smell like the San Francisco Bay.” I had no idea what that meant, and I didn’t want her to leave, but her reassuring smile told me she’d be back.

I just hoped she’d stay long enough for me to tell her everything I needed to say.