Exam Room #11.
That was the room that we were trying to find as I trailed behind Bren, weaving through the nurses and doctors and equipment. It was a maze, but we eventually found the right place.
I didn't have to drag Bren by his hair to get him here, but he did seem a little tense. So when we got into the room, I waited until Bren took a seat in one of those fugly mauve chairs and then slipped onto his lap, sneaking a quick kiss.
The problem was that Bren didn't really do quick kisses.
The minute that my lips connected with his, he was holding onto me, taking everything with a drugging, deep embrace. Then Bren pulled abruptly back, smiling as he shifted me onto my own chair before the doctor came in.
And suddenly, Bren seemed just fine. More than fine.
But it was almost like all of his tension had been transferred to me. Because as the examination on his shoulder began, and I saw the blood and the grimace on his face, I saw everything again.
Bren crying. Bren telling me he wasn't lucky enough to live. Bren on the ground. Blood.
Tears began to well up in my eyes, and I was torn between staying with him and leaving so that he wouldn't see. The stitches didn't seem to bother Bren, though, and I knew that my crying would. So I gave him a quick kiss on his cheek and then slipped from his grasp. Ducking my head, I tried to hide the tears that were now flowing freely down my face. And somehow, I managed to get into the hallway before choking out a sob.
My feet brought me down the hallway, not wanting Bren to hear me. But I couldn't really tell where I was going, my vision blurry. Brushing along the wall, I stopped at an empty space and slid down it.
Who knew how long I sat on the floor, hiding my face from the nurses and doctors who streamed past. They must see people crying on the floors all the time.
But those people probably had real reasons to be crying. People weren't supposed to cry over stitches, after all.
Eventually, I heard a quiet voice say, "Madie?"
I tried to wipe my tears. But I wasn't fast enough to clear them before peering up into Caroline's kind face. There was a trace of worry there, lingering in the lines between her eyes as she asked, "Is everything okay with Bren?"
Nodding, I continued to wipe moisture from my face. But it was useless. It just kept coming. It was sticking to me, inescapable. And I worried that I wouldn't be able to escape any of this, ever.
But I took a deep breath, determined. When I thought I could talk without crying even harder, I said, "Everything is fine. He's just getting a few stitches."
A little frown formed on her face.
"Then why the tears?"
I swallowed and spoke my truth. The thing that killed me the most. "Because it could have been so much more. And it would have been my fault."
Caroline sighed. And then she slid down the wall, so she was sitting next to me. "You know I had the same thought at first."
I whipped my head around, my stomach sinking at the same moment.
"No, no." Caroline quickly shook her head, and some locks fell out of the overly large clip that tried to contain her stringy hair. "That came out wrong. I thought nothing about it being your fault. But last night when he told me what happened, I about had a heart attack thinking how it could have been different. How it could have been worse."
I nodded numbly.
"But then you know what I realized?"
Blinking up at her beneath heavy, wet eyelashes, I asked, "What?"
"He's okay. He's safe. And you know what else?"
"What?" I repeated, trying not to choke on the word.
Caroline smiled, and I understood why she was the one in this world who had been able to bring Bren out of his darkness after his parents died. Because Caroline was just a little bit of light in a cardigan sweater. "He's happy, hunny," she said softly.
Even though there were still tears staining my cheeks, I smiled a bit. Because the thought of Bren being happy made me happy.
Caroline gave me a playful, little nudge on my shoulder. "Stop blaming yourself for something that didn't happen."
I wanted to, I really did, but I couldn't let it go that easily. "He could have—" I closed my eyes, whispering the last words. "He could have died. And if he'd never met me—"
"Nope."
My eyelids flew open. Caroline's lips were pursed. She was shaking her head. "Nope," Caroline repeated. "Don't finish that sentence. Bren didn't die, Madie. In fact, our boy is alive in a way I've never seen before. So if you want to take the blame for anything, take blame for that."
Her words left a hopeful burning in my chest. My mouth popped open. I actually heard it as my dry lips fell apart. But I didn't have a chance to reply because then the door to the exam room opened, and Bren's voice echoed down the hall as he thanked the doctor.
I hastily wiped at my eyes and stood up. Caroline stood, too.
Bren turned away from the young woman who'd stitched him up and walked toward us. "Good as new," he said, beaming.
And it was at that moment that I knew Caroline was right. Our boy was alive. And he was happy.
Well, he was happy until he saw my face, and then his smile faltered. I quickly turned away, leading us back out of the doctor's office, trying to pull myself together by the time we got to the car.
But Bren was faster. I barely took one step outside the building when his fingers wrapped around my arm.
"Madeline, stop."
I did. Caroline continued on without us, strolling to the car, presumably to give us space.
After taking a deep breath, I turned around. And Bren's sad eyes nearly killed me. Because a minute ago, they'd been smiling.
"You've been crying." It wasn't a question. His mouth was drawn together in a tight line. "I thought you left because you were squeamish or something." He paused, taking a moment to tuck my hair behind my ear. "But there's something else, isn't there?"
I attempted a smile, but I was still an emotional mess. There was no doubt that my wobbly grin was unconvincing. Still, I said, "It's nothing, Bren."
When I tried to spin away from him to continue walking to the car, he pulled back on my arm again. And so I was forced to face the frown that I'd known he would have. But then he did something that I had not been expecting. Bren bent down and scooped his hands beneath my knees, picking me straight off my feet.
"Bren!" I squealed, bouncing a little as he tucked my legs around his waist.
"Tell me what's wrong," he said, glancing upwards with a little smile curving on his face.
"Nothing is wrong!" I insisted, clutching onto his neck as he began walking us forward, across the parking lot. "What are you doing? People are staring!" I hissed the words at him, but I could feel my own grin threatening to break through as he carried me.
"I don't care." Bren gave a little shrug. "Tell me what's wrong."
A laugh slipped between my lips, betraying me. He was unbelievable.
"Well, that's better," he murmured as he gave me a little squeeze. "But I still wanna know what's going on."
"Oh my god, Bren. You are ridiculous." Even as I said it, his hands began to smooth down the underside of my legs, brushing awfully close to my ass. I gave the ends of his hair a short tug to get his attention, but he just smirked up at me in a way that told me that I could do it again and he wouldn't care. At all. I rolled my eyes. "You just got stitches in your shoulder. Put me down!"
Bren rotated our bodies a little, and soon my back was being pressed into something cold and curved—Caroline's car. Bren pinned me there with his body, pulling back his arms.
"My stitches are fine." His voice was low, his eyelashes fluttering as his grin faded. "But for some reason, you are not. Talk to me."
I sighed. "It's okay. I talked to Caroline. I feel better now."
"Ah," Bren said, leaning back further. A chilly breeze ran between us, ruffling Bren's hair. It was cloudy today, and I could see the clouds forming in Bren's eyes, too. "She is good at all that talking shit. But...I'm trying to be good at it, too."
He tilted his head forward, and I met him halfway so our foreheads pressed together. Closing my eyes, I breathed in the piney, familiar scent of this boy I'd come to love.
"I just started thinking about the other night," I whispered. "That night."
I could feel the deep breath that Bren took. "It's over, Madie. He can't hurt you now."
"Me?" I shook my head, tangling my hair between us. "No, Bren. It's you. It's what could have happened to you that haunts me."
Warm fingers suddenly pressed into my cheek, cupping it. The touch had startled me at first, but then I melted into it—into him.
"Madie..." he began, but I cut him off.
"But you're okay, and that's all that matters," I breathed on an exhale.
Bren was quiet for a long moment. I was quiet, too. But my mind was whirling—taking in his presence and his kindness and his warmth. Thinking about what Caroline had said, thinking about how my heart responded.
Eventually, Bren said, "I'm okay."
And then he slowly retreated, and I slid down, still wedged between Bren's body and Caroline's SUV. Bren made sure my feet had touched the ground, and then he stepped away, giving me a hesitant smile.
I returned it as he opened the back door for me. I stepped up into the car, and Bren followed me.
As soon as he slammed the door behind himself, I saw Caroline's eyebrows rise in the rearview mirror. "You're both gonna sit back there? What am I, your chauffeur?"
Bren laughed, and I was happy to see him brightening again. "I don't think chauffeurs usually drive Ford Explorers."
Caroline laughed, too. She shook her head, muttering something beneath her breath as she pulled out her phone to look at a map.
Meanwhile, Bren scooted closer to me, his hand slithering over to my leg. He rubbed his thumb over my thigh before stopping and just leaving it to rest there.
I was admittedly distracted, but I saw Caroline's head whip up again from the corner of my eye. And I heard her teasing voice say, "Just no making out back there."
A husky chuckle slipped out of Bren, making me turn to look at him. He was already watching me, studying me. His eyes flicked to my lips and then back to capture my gaze. He held onto it, and a little shiver worked its way through me.
"What else are we gonna do for an hour?" Bren asked lightly. Joking with his words. But his eyes were anything but light, and he didn't move their piercing darkness from mine.
Caroline said something, but I honestly didn't know what it was.
Then everything caught up with me. "Wait...an hour? Where are we going?"
Bren blinked, and our little magical moment faded. "Oh, did I forget to tell you?"
I tilted my head, indicating that, yes, he did forget.
"We're gonna go pick out a Christmas tree. Is that okay? There's a little farm that Caroline likes to go to, but it's a bit of a drive."
An adorable, sheepish grin spread over his face. And suddenly, the magic was back. It was like little fires burning my soul. It was like the first rush of winter air. Crispy, tingling magic. It was like...love.
Because Bren. And Christmas trees. And Bren.
🤍
a little bit of warm fuzzies.
thanks for reading!
xoxo A