Why the Straight One? | Book 1 | bxb

Excerpt 7

We take a lot of things for granted. Like the constant beat of our hearts, the breaths we take even when we aren't thinking of it. Or the steady rise and fall of a chest that life is still running through. Until those things are in danger of never happening again, we barely take note of them.

I watched the monitor next to his bed, reassured by the pulse I saw there that matched the one I felt in his hand.

The nurses gave up trying to make me move a long time ago. I think they realized that I wasn't going anywhere. I needed to know that he was alive. Needed to see it and feel it for myself.

It had been three days since Alex was injured, and I had only been allowed in here sometime last night. I hadn't slept the whole night, just watching the monitor, and holding onto him to know that he was still here with me.

I had taken him for granted too. Getting so used to having him around that I didn't realize just what I felt around him. When did I start to love him? Seeing him, laying there in his own blood, had ripped the words right out of me, but hadn't they been there a long time ago? This feeling was so gradual, I couldn't even begin to work out when I started to love him.

I'd never really taken the time to just look at him, during all of our marriage. Not for this long anyways. He was still so pale and drawn from the loss of blood, but beautiful despite that. His freckles stood out just a little more now.

The door creaked open, and I turned to look behind me. It was Mark. I gave him a small smile before turning back to look at Alex. Now that I was certain he was alive, smiling came naturally. Just yesterday, I didn't know if I would ever smile again.

Mark pulled up a chair next to me, and I knew he wanted to talk, but I couldn't look away from Alex's peaceful face. I think it was still registering to me that he was past the worst.

I don't think Mark expected anything else from me. He has been with me more than anyone else in these last few days, and had probably seen more emotions then he was prepared for.

"Has he woken up yet?" Mark peered earnestly at Alex, and I couldn't help but look at his scar as he leaned closer.

The wound has probably been very deep, and the scar looked like it wasn't fading very well. It ran from the left side of his forehead, across his nose, and down past the right side of his jaw, narrowly missing his eye.

"No he hasn't."

He looked over at me when I spoke, and must have known instinctively why I was looking at him. I felt a pang of guilt when his eyes dropped and he scooted further away from me.

"You'll tell me when he does, won't you? I'm very invested in this now, and don't want to be behind on any news."

Something was off in the way he spoke, even if it was as energetic as usual. I wished I hadn't been the reason for that, but it was hard not to notice something that obvious. I knew I shouldn't ask about it, and could only imagine the mental and physical pain that scar had caused him.

"Of course. But you'll have to come and see for yourself. I know I won't be leaving his side, especially when he wakes."

"Yeah, I understand." He was silent for a minute, looking down at his hands. Silence filled the room, the only noise being that of the machines Alex was hooked up to.

"It's from Jasper, you know." His voice surprised me. It sounded different, harder, but far away, like he was lost in thought. I knew he was talking about his scar.

"Same knife and everything." His finger traced the scar, and I followed it with my eyes. Looking at him, I was reminded just how young he was. Younger than Alex, even than Elliot.