sanguineangels (69 page)
Reruns
The hospital smelled like bleach, a faint odor which always reminded me of the day after my mom died. Richard held my hand and guided me down the long corridor of rooms. He looked different with his hair cropped short and a goatee. He looked older. “So, um, what do you do now? Still in a band?” I asked.
He chuckled. “No, nothing like that. I manage a bookstore.”
“Oh. That’s a career change.”
“Yeah.”
We walked along in awkward silence before stopping at a closed door. “Here it is. You ready for this?” he asked.
“Not really. I’m just glad I found him when I did.”
“Me, too. I owe you one.”
Inside, a white curtain hung beside the bed. Tommy stared out the window, his eyes sunken and full of sadness, his mouth a perpetual frown. I approached slowly, unsure of what I could do or say to make him smile again, and knowing it was probably not my place to do so.
“Hey, Tommy,” Richard said. “I told you she’d show, didn’t I? You weren’t dreaming. She brought you in.”
He faced us, his eyes dark, missing the usual spark of happiness I remembered there. “Angela Harris,” he whispered. He didn’t smile or hold out his arms to offer me a hug. “Where’ve you been?”
“Lost,” I answered.
He nodded.
Silence spanned out in which I listened to the two brothers’ hearts beating, annoyed I could hear such details. “You think I can be alone with him for a little while?” I asked Richard.
“Yeah, yeah sure.” He stepped out.
I stood there feeling stupid. All alone with Tommy, and everything I should say was tangled up in my mouth. I crossed the linoleum and hovered over his bed. Despite the IV tubing taped to his wrist, he reached up and took my hand.
I knelt and kissed his forehead. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. We can’t change what’s happened.”
“I don’t know if Richard told you, but I lost the baby.”
He nodded and lowered his head. He stared down at the bed sheets for a time. “Is that why you left?”
“No. Someone kept me away. I’ll tell you all of it another day, if you want to hear. Right now, I just want to sit here and know that you’re alive. You’ve been my hope for a long time, the only light I had in a dark place.”
“You’re wearing my shirt,” he muttered.
I nodded.
“Don’t leave me again, Angela.”
“All right.”
“I have a little girl.”
“I know.”
He stared up at me, the light returning in the darkness of his blue eyes for a moment. “I can’t believe I almost left her alone.” He squeezed my fingers. “That was selfish of me.”
I knelt over and hugged him. My face came away wet with his tears. He cried the rest of the time I sat there by him. Neither of us seemed to know what else to say.
I waited at his apartment when Richard brought Tommy home. We talked a little, but he needed to get to work. Tommy sat on the couch and flicked on the TV. I hugged Richard good-bye and promised to call his cell if there was any problem. He left with a few backward glances at his brother.
“You sure you’re okay to stay with him?”
“Yes. I’ll keep you posted.”
It was late, almost midnight. I sat beside him holding his hand while he stared glumly at
Gilligan’s Island
reruns. The lights danced across his face as they had when we were teens in World History. Things had changed so much since then. And yet, here I was and here he was.
“You think we can start over?” I whispered.
He blinked. Facing me, Tommy said, “I told you once I’ll start over as many times as it takes if it means I get to be with you in the end.”
“Yeah, I remember that.”
He leaned over and kissed my lips. He moved back, and I swear I could still feel the softness of his mouth caressing mine.
“I meant it then, Angela.”
My hands quaked. I needed to feed sometime tonight, but I knew how to hold out. I had tricks to keep from going too far. “And now?”
“I still mean it.”
For the third time in my life, I was given a chance with him. No matter what came in my way, I planned to hang onto this one. Sometimes in life you only get one shot. I guess I’m just lucky.
The End
About the Author
Anastasia Rabiyah writes erotic romance, paranormal erotic romance, and fantasy. She often crosses genres in order to follow her muses into the darkness where they seek out destiny in all its forms. She believes in fairies, demons, angels, magic, passion, chocolate, supportive friends, e-books, and writing critique groups. Her deepest desire is to pursue her creative dreams and realize them. Every spare moment she devotes to writing for her haunting muses.
Visit her on the web at
www.AnastasiaRabiyah.com
