A woman is next to him, holding a large manila folder. His shirt is opened slightly, showcasing white bandages covering his chest. He's speaking with a woman at a computer, pointing at a sheet of paper. He turns suddenly, looking out at the chaos before his large, blue eyes fall on me, framed by his beautiful, paled face.
The woman next to him speaks into his ear but he moves forward towards me. My feet want to work but they don't. My mouth is hung open like an idiot but I can't help it.
"Genevieve." He limps forward slightly on his path to me, swallowing. "Gen, I-I never would have- left. I-I was unconscious. I woke up on the plane-"
A tear falls from my widened eye, rolling fast down my cheek onto my shirt. Am I imagining this?
"I'm so sorry."
Is he- Did he- Did he really come back for me?
In relief, I drop my head into my hands, unable to stop the violent sobs that escape my throat. I feel his arms around my body at once, clasping me tightly. I don't know if it's hurting him but at this moment in time, I don't ever want him to let go.
"Oh, god. Tristan."
"It's alright. I'm here..." He runs a hand over my hair softly. "You're not alone."
I find myself laughing through the tears at the reminder of what I said to him on that old pickup truck. He huffs happily, leaning his cheek on my skull. I pull him closer by the fabric of his shirt and I hear him wince slightly.
I let go immediately, pulling back. "Oh god, I'm- I'm sorry."
"It's alright." He smiles, wiping the tears from beneath my eyes. "Let's get you home."
"But- I can't. I'm waiting on documents." Wiping under my eyes, I take a breath to continue. "My passport-"
"I retrieved a copy of your passport."
With wide eyes, I gape in shock. "How?"
"I'll tell you once we're on our way back. Come."
He takes my hand, walking me over to the woman by the tent who's staring intently at us. I pull on his fingers, stopping him.
"You- You came back here- for me? Even though you don't know me..."
He cups my cheek, gently running his thumb down the gash beneath my eye. "You saved my life. I haven't forgotten that, Gen."
We walk side by side through the crowds of people, slowly since he can still barely move. The woman in front of us I learned is his assistant, Tanya Muller. I've also already realized that Tristan is important... Really important. He explained to Jennifer at the tent that he's been in contact with Washington already... That's how he was able to get my passport sent to the embassy.
I have no idea what to say to him... Thank you? I feel like it's not enough. Still, it's the only thing I can think of.
"T-Thank you, Tristan... I-I'm still in shock that you came back here... to help me."
He nods, smiling as we step onto the cement road, walking towards a black SUV. A man, in complete uniform, steps out of the driver's seat and holds open the door for Tristan. His ever-silent assistant settles herself in the front seat.
The driver and I help Tristan into the backseat which is a task considering his height. I get in beside him, breathless considering the broken bones in my stomach have been rubbing against each other for days now.
YOU ARE READING
What do you do when disaster strikes? You survive. On the night before her entire life changes, Genevieve Harding was walking along the shoreline with a man she'd only just met. Tristan Maddox. A man who grazed the pages of the magazines and newspa...