WHEN I CAN FINALLY move, I situate us so we’re laying in the right direction on the bed, with the covers pulled over us. Danny’s head is against my shoulder, and I’m playing with her hair. I’m not thinking about tomorrow or making a quick escape. I’m thinking about how to keep her.I know she’s awake. I’m afraid if I say anything, I’ll entirely fuck this up. I keep it simple, “You okay, Danny girl?”“Mmm,” she whispers.I roll. Her head slides off my shoulder, and I rise on my elbow so I’m looking down at her. “Mmm’s not a good enough answer.” I pick up a chunk of her hair again, and let it slide slowly through my fingers.Just the sides of her lips tilt up. “I’m not as good at this as you are, Van.”I tighten my fingers around the strand, and use it to turn her face toward me. “If you were any better, I’d be comatose.” For some reason, I want to talk. I’ve never fucking wanted to talk. Fuck some more, maybe, but not carry on a conversation. “Thank you for wearing a dress for me.”“Yo

LEAVING ON SATURDAY MORNING is hard, but not awkward. After our outing into the snow, we spent the rest of the day in bed and ordered room service for dinner. I used more than half the box of condoms, and told Danny I must have lost part of my groove because they all should have been gone. She got embarrassed and hit me with a pillow. We used one more condom after that.I drive her to her apartment and walk her up. I kiss her at her door, and refuse when she invites me inside. There are so many things I want to say, but I say none of them. I had things to do in order to make Danny part of my life for good. I leave her after another long kiss.I pull over about ten minutes away from her apartment and send her a text.Date next Thursday? I feel like an idiot that I hadn’t asked her before I left the apartment. Her text comes in a few minutes later.Sounds good. Can I cook you dinner?Perfect, see you at six.I get back on the road. Danny cooking will fit perfectly into my plans. I need

IT TAKES US ALL day to decorate the house. I remember my mom browbeating Joel and me the entire Thanksgiving weekend so everything was set up perfectly by Sunday night. Looking back, those were happy times, and someday I’ll have children to do the same with. We concentrate on the lower floor of the house. I cut a tree the day before and it rests in a bucket on the back porch. Decorating the tree is the last thing we do before I show her my surprise. I lift her up while she’s laughing, wobbling a bit as she puts the star at the top of the tree. I made sure the curtains were drawn in the front windows before the sun went down. It’s dark now, and I have my surprise set on a timer so the lights go on when the sun goes down. After giving Danny a lengthy kiss in front of the tree, I grab our jackets and make her put hers on while I do the same. I pull her to the front door and open it. “Van,” she says in a breathy voice as we step out onto the porch. The entire house is lit with Christmas

Voices.“Mild traumatic brain injury, several stitches, no broken bones, but a badly bruised hip. The CT showed no significant swelling of the brain, but until she’s fully conscious we won’t know if there is lasting damage.”A squeeze to my hand preceded my father’s voice filling the room. “I’m having a neurosurgeon flown in from Johns Hopkins. We aren’t taking any chances.”Yep, that’s my dad. Always the best of everything for his only child. I tried to form words. My hand lay limp within his. I focused and finally my fingers did what I wanted them to. His warm hand gently squeezed mine back.Another burning pain traveled through my head and the world went dark again.***“Take this IV out now. The next person who pushes that bedpan beneath my ass will be wearing it. I can walk six feet to the bathroom to pee.” God, I sounded like a bitch. I’d been grouchy since my father and medical staff woke me in the middle of the night to secretly whisk me away to a private hospital.Someplace d

There was little in my stomach and what was there was trying to come up. Warm hands grasped my shoulders.“Deep breaths. You’re okay,” Brack said with quiet authority.I tried to inhale. There was no air. And he lied. Nothing would ever be okay again.Dead.I struggled to get out of bed while mumbling, “Toilet, I… please.”An ugly plastic, curved, pink hospital bowl appeared under my chin as I heaved. It did little good; nothing came up and I couldn’t catch my breath.“Breathe in through your nose and hold it as I count—one… two… three.” Brack’s commanding voice penetrated my thoughts. He sounded like he spoke through a funnel. Something in his instructions had me paying attention and doing what he said.“Now out through your mouth—one… two… three.”It took several minutes for the roar to fade to a small whoosh. The heat from one of his hands rested against the base of my neck. Then I felt his fingers in my hair tilting my head back.“You’re okay. You suffer these often?”It took a se