His lips crash into mine and I feel everything all at once. It's like fire coursing through my veins. My head starts swimming and it takes too long for me to finally push him away.
"Robbie," I breathe.
He's still too close to me. His blue eyes are dark and his skin is tan from the Georgia sun. He's incredibly beautiful but I don't want this. At least not with him.
"I-I'm sorry," he quickly apologizes. "You came in to visit me a few times. I guess I had it all wrong."
"I have feelings for someone else," I admit.
He looks at me perplexed. Like he has no idea who I'm talking about. "This is awkward. I'm really sorry, again. I'm just gonna leave."
"Wait," I call after him. "I still want to see you and talk to you. Is that okay?"
Sam comes crashing into my legs, giggling, before Robbie responds. "Yeah," he smiles. "That should be okay."
Two days pass until Daryl is finally released from Jonah's care. And the two days are brutal. They consist only of Sam. Every hour. Every minute. Every second. The kid drives me closer and closer to the edge of insanity. He screams and cries for things I can't give him and runs away from my sight so I lose him and spend hours searching for him. One time he ran outside into the freezing cold and hid out in the crop fields. When he finally started crying from the cold was when I found him.
I was livid.
Then he apologized, looking at me with wide, baby blue eyes and I wasn't so angry anymore.
He still drives me crazy though, and as the weeks have passed he's started talking more, which also isn't as exciting as you would think it is. He never shuts up: Macy this, Macy that. It never stops.
Now, the two of us stand waiting outside the infirmary. Sam stands impatiently in front of the door, even after I tell him he's going to get smacked if he keeps standing there. He doesn't listen.
Through the window, I see Daryl. His eyes meet mine, and he smiles a little. I glance back and forth between him and the door, trying to let him know Sam's there. He nods and opens the door slowly before pulling his son into his arms. Sam laughs so hard as his dad spins him around I can hear his little voice echo down the halls.
All I can think of is how grateful I am that I'm not watching Sam on my own anymore and that Daryl is alive-standing right in front of me, breathing. He still looks tired; the bags under his eyes are a deep purple and his cheek bones stick out. But he looks better than he did two days ago. He looks like the man I love, and I don't think I've ever seen anyone more beautiful.
Then, with his free hand he motions for me to come closer and wraps his arm around me. The three of us stand there-close-like that for a while. I fight back tears. The relief that floods through me is overwhelming. Having all of us together again makes my knees weak and my head spin.
Everything feels perfect. And with the way the world is I never thought perfect was something I would feel again.
The next day Daryl and I leave the prison to go hunting together. Despite still being weak, Daryl insisted he was well enough to hunt and Rick gave us permission to leave for a few hours.
The air is cold. Even with the thick jacket I'm wearing, I can feel the cold stick to my skin. Daryl walks a few paces in front of me with his crossbow slung on his shoulder as he navigates through the woods. With the weather like this, I don't know what he expects to find. The trees are frosted with snow and a thin blanket of it covers the ground. I wish I knew when Christmas was coming.
I wish Christmas still existed.
But it's nice being out here. Just the two of us. And I feel safe knowing Daryl's in front of me and the prison's behind me. In my back pocket is a magnum while I carry a crowbar in my left hand I found lying in the snow.
"That boy-Robbie-he likes you," Daryl says as he trudges ahead of me.
I'm confused why he's telling me this. How would he know? "So?"
"He seems nice. You should, uh," he pauses. Chews on a nail. "You should, you know..." he tails off.
I grab his shoulder, making him face me. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Macy." He runs a hand across his face. Says my name like I'm a child. "This whole you and me thing ain't gonna happen. Ever. And you need to move on-start a life of your own. You can't keep waitin' for me."
My heart sinks lower in my chest. My fists tremble slightly at my sides. "God, why do you keep lying to yourself? I know that you have feelings for me! I know that you feel something for me. Why do you keep pushing me away? Do you think she's going to be pissed at you for moving on? Is that what it is? Because if it-"
"You really have to bring her into everything, don't you?" he interjects. "This ain't about her! I already told you I ain't interested in you. Just move on, Macy. I ain't got time for this shit." He starts to walk away but I move in front of him.
"It's always about her and you know it! Do you ever think for a second maybe she'd want you to be happy? Why is that so crazy for you to consider?" Anger boils in my blood. After everything I've done for him, after all the times I've risked my life for him, and watched his irritating kid the least he owes me is the truth. I almost consider hitting him with the crowbar I'm holding in my hand. "After all the shit I've done for you, the least you could do is tell me the truth," I say aloud.
"Jesus, just let it go! Stop actin' like you're some teenage girl and fuckin' move on already!" he yells.
"Daryl, please. All I want-"
"Yes, Macy I do have feelings for you! I have a lot of feelings for you, all right? You happy now? If you weren't so goddamn selfless all the time and so goddamn pretty all the time it'd make it easier for me to hate you. And that's what I'm tryin' to do but you make it so damn impossible." The words rush of out his mouth so fast he hardly realizes what he's saying until he looks at me and stops.
I stand in front of him, frozen. My eyes watch his like he's some kind of ghost. As much I'd hoped, I never thought I would hear him say those words to me. I had decided in my heart, a long time ago, that he would never let me close, never let me in. I'm so overwhelmed I become speechless.
"Fuck," he mutters. "I wasn't supposed to say that."
Snow falls into his hair. I can see his breath every time he breathes. Everything feels like it's in slow motion. I feel like I'm spinning.
"She won't be mad at you for moving on," I finally say. "And I can wait until you're ready."
He shakes his head as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his anger suddenly dissolving. "If I could ever get over the guilt I'd feel from movin' on, I'd choose you. I'd move on with you. But I can't. She was my wife and I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with her. You need to find someone else, Macy. It's the way it has to be."
Tears fall from my eyes. "This is not the way it has to be. You're making it this way when you don't have to."
He looks up at the sky, not wanting to see me cry. I wonder what else he's going to say. I know he's not going to change. I know this is how it's going to be. I wonder if he's right, if I should move on-give Robbie a chance. The thought makes my stomach sick. It's impossible to imagine wanting someone else when the man I want is standing right in front of me.
"Let's head back," he sighs.
"But we didn't catch anything," I argue weakly.
"We should go back anyways."
"There is no going back, really. Is there?" I say.
He doesn't respond but I follow him anyway. He leaves footprints in the snow and I try to match them only to find his strides are too big for me. I'm not paying attention when he stops in his tracks and I collide into his back.
Just as he points I see her coming toward us. She's missing teeth. An eye is gouged out. Intestines hang from her open stomach. As Daryl reaches for his crossbow I stop him.
"Let me get it." I don't wait for his response as I walk to her, tossing the crowbar in my hand.
She hisses and starts moving faster when she sees me. I bring the crowbar up, holding it like a bat-adrenaline pumping from my heart-but before I swing an arrow shoots through her skull and she drops dead.
"Really?" I shriek. "Really?"
He stares at me blankly, surprised at my sudden outburst.
"All I wanted to do was hit a zombie with my crowbar, and you manage to take that away from me too?" I'm yelling now, marching toward him and threatening to swing the weapon in his face.
"Shit, Macy calm down. She was getting' too close to you," he explains.
I raise the metal bar higher. "I told you I had it!"
"Well, I killed her anyways. It's not like it's the first time I didn't listen to you." He takes a step back. His eyes are wide and I know I must look insane. But I'm so angry with him. So angry that he didn't listen to me, that he didn't do the one thing I asked for.
"You know what? Screw you, Daryl!" I scream. "Screw you for being one of the most God-awful men I have ever met and screw you for being an ungrateful ass! But honestly, screw me the most for looking past all of that-for thinking there was good in you. It was naïve and fucking stupid of me to think like that. I should've known better."
"Oh, because you're just little Miss Perfect?" he shouts, pointing a finger in my face. "Last time I checked you're the one who fucked up two marriages and slept with two married men, but somehow I'm the most God-awful man you've ever met. Makes perfect fucking sense."
I keep staring at him, waiting for him to say more. To say every hateful thing about me he can think of. "Is that it?" I ask. "I expected to hear more awful things from you."
"Oh, and you're fucking annoying," he mutters.
I scoff. "Oh right, because you're so pleasant all the time."
He chews on a fingernail. "We're done here. We're headin' back. Now."
I start following him back to the prison. "I'm not giving up, you know."
He keeps walking ahead without responding and I begin to think he didn't hear me. "I didn't expect you to," he says, finally.
"When you lived at the farm house-before Rick let me stay with you guys-I used to spy on you. To see if you and everyone else were good people. And every night you would stay up late, looking out the window. Why would you do that?" The thought comes to me unexpectedly and I'm not quite sure why it's so important that I know his answer.
He slows down a little, letting me fall in pace beside him. And I notice again how strange the two of us are. How we can go from screaming at each other one moment to having a pleasant conversation like nothing happened. Somehow I've gotten used to it.
"I saw you out there one night. I couldn't see your face, but you looked small and I couldn't see anyone else so I wasn't too worried," he explains, "and I knew you was watching us. That you wanted something. So I waited up for you just in case you were dangerous. I tried tracking you the next day but you ran away too fast-probably thought I was a walker or somethin'. Anyway, I was waitin' up each night for you."
I consider his answer for a moment. "Why did you let me stay? I know if you begged Natalie enough you could've gotten rid of me. I know you didn't want me there."
"You remember when I found you in the woods? Said I was trackin' you because I thought you might be Natalie?" he questions.
"Yeah, I do." At first, I don't understand how this has anything to do with what I asked.
"I knew those were you tracks. First off, no one could run that fast other than you. And second, I knew they weren't Natalie's because she woulda never left Hanna and Scott. There shoulda been another set of tracks if they were hers."
I stop to look at him. "Why you would do that? Why would you try to find me? You hated me."
"You looked just like my wife, Macy. You reminded me of someone I loved," he answers. "You were one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. I didn't wanna lose you. Ever."
I start shaking from the cold. Or maybe it's not the cold, I'm not sure anymore. His words burn into my heart. My brain struggles comprehending everything he's said-how all of it makes sense and how I should've seen it from the start. But I'm straining myself when I try to believe it's all true. For so long I thought he hated me, that he wanted nothing more than for me to die, to leave him. It makes our current situation even more confusing: why does he still chase after me while he pushes me away?
"At least promise me you'll give Robbie or some other guy a chance, all right?" he says. "I need to know that I tried givin' you somethin' better than me. Because you deserve more."
His pale eyes meet mine and we stare at each other for a few moments. "I don't want anyone else."
"Please, just try," he begs.
I look at the snow on the ground. "It'll be a waste of time. And we don't know how much time we have."
"Macy, I can't move on. I'm sorry. But I know you can. I know you can try."
I glance up at him. "Okay," I agree. "I'll try. But I'm only trying just so I can prove you wrong, that I can't really move on."
He smiles a little from the corner of his mouth. "All right then."