CHAPTER 21: ROSE
16 years old
Gage takes several tentative steps in Summer’s direction with his hand outstretched, holding the strikingly red flower with its long, green stem. Her sapphire eyes flicker between his apologetic face and the flower in his hand. She isn’t afraid of him; she’s actually delighted that he’s here. With the IV no longer a burden, she bounces to her feet and meets him halfway, startling him. She stops a foot in front of him, and a grin twitches on her face, waiting for him to say something. She doesn’t know what has gotten into her.
“This is for you,” whispers Gage, “my Flower.” He tilts the red flower, with all its perfectly aligned petals, her direction. “Careful of the thorns.”
She gingerly takes it from him, avoiding any thorns, and holds it to her nose. It smells so sweet she can’t help but breathe in its essence, its flavor, its overwhelming trace of beauty hidden within the petal’s fragrance. She reaches for Gage’s hand, which he offers freely. She writes quickly, “What’s it called?”
“It’s a rose,” he says. “I feel horrible about walking out the other day. There’s just so much on my mind, and I was trying to think of a way to help you.” His hands rake through his hair, and his cheeks flush.
She puts the rose to her nose again and inhales the perfume that smells almost like—ironically enough—Doctor Rose. Well, beneath all the antiseptic, that is. Summer turns around, walks over to her hospital bed, and sits. Gage stands awkwardly in the middle of the room until she gestures for him to come and sit in the seat next to her bed. He smiles as he makes his way over, pulling his green uniform jacket off and hanging it on the back of the chair.
“You look much better,” he notes. “How do you feel?” He sits and holds his palm out to her.
She places the rose on the table. Then holds his hand with both of hers, smiling at the normalness of it all, like the one day they spent together is the beginning of a whole relationship. “I feel rested and full,” she writes.
His smile only grows, dimples forming. “That’s good.”
When she doesn’t respond, silence spreads out like a choking mist, and both of their smiles disappear. She doesn’t know what to write in his palm, and he seems lost too. Her hands become a little sweaty, but she doesn’t let him go.
“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, startling her. “I just got . . . scared. I thought if I left the room and never saw you again that my life would go back to normal. You would be sent to an Outlander camp, and I would be out in the field again. I could just . . . forget you.”
A few seconds tick by as Summer lets his words roll around in her mind. Her heart squeezes uncomfortably, but how she should feel, what kinds of emotions she should be having right now, she isn’t sure. Her finger touches his palm and hesitates. Then she writes, “Why did you come back if you wanted to forget me?”
“Because I couldn’t,” he whispers, his hypnotizing green eyes holding her gaze. “I tried, but there was no way.”
“Why?” she writes.
“Maybe it’s because I’m some macho ass,” he says with a short, unamused laugh. “But I thought about your situation and the things you’ve gone through. Then I thought about what happened in the cave, and I knew then that I couldn’t just walk away. Not now. Not anymore.”
She remembers the cave incident too, where she clung to him and cried all the tears she so frequently holds inside. She flushes over the memory, embarrassed by her actions. She looks away from his gaze and down to the sterile, white floor.
“Hey,” he says softly and stands, pulling his hand from hers. He tilts her chin up and forces her to look at him. He swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You let me hold you when it was the last thing you wanted. You cried out, even though you feared what kind of punishment would follow. You trusted me when you didn’t trust anyone else. It’s male macho crap, but you made such a huge impact on me. And now?” He sighs. “I can’t get you out of my head. After that there is no way.” He takes a step back, letting go of her chin. “Will you forgive me?”
She is breathless from his speech, but is able to nod slowly. Each of his words sinks into her skin and makes her tingle with this new, raw emotion. She has yet to figure out what the name of it is. Maybe admiration? No, that isn’t right. Then, with blinding realization, she knows what it is. Affection.
I have feelings for him. She snatches the rose up and brings it to her nose again, inhaling deeply.
“I’m glad you like the rose.” He chuckles, still unsure. “I can’t stay here long, but I did want to tell you that Jaden’s fine. She’s adjusting to the Outlander camp with no problems.” Summer’s relieved at the news. “And . . .” He hesitates. “I wanted to ask if it’s okay if I come back tomorrow?”
She raps her knuckles once on the table, and he immediately grins, the worry lines around his eyes smoothing.
“Tomorrow it is,” says Gage happily.
Tomorrow, she agrees silently.