While I Was Away(40)

Time is such a funny thing. I just saw him six weeks ago, yet it feels like six years. Six millennia. How I missed him.

“I'm Johannes Lund, I'm a nurse here, I can ... oh my god. It's you! I can't believe it! I tried to find out you-”

Adele wanted to grab him and hold onto him and never let him go. She wanted to listen to him speak forever. Nothing else mattered. Just him and her and forever.

But this was Jones she was thinking about, of course it couldn't be easy. As she stared into his eyes and drank in his words, darkness closed in around her vision. Her headache turned into a runaway freight train, screaming through her brain. Just before she completely blacked out, she could hear everyone start to yell.

“She's fainting!”

“Get the cart!”

“Grab her! Grab her!”

Then arms wrapped around her, and the only voice she ever wanted to hear filled her head.

“I've got you, Adele. I'm with you. I've got you.”





22




Adele was running.

Running and running and running, yet she never seemed to get any closer to the shoreline.

She slowed to a walk. Turned in a circle as she moved, looking up and down the beach.

I know he's here. I know he's here. Somewhere.

But where was the sun? The sun was always up at the beach, and yet there was no sign of it today. Just heavy clouds, and in the distance, a hazy mist sat on the horizon. A stiff breeze kicked up, whipping her hair about her face.

She started running again.

“Jones!”

No matter how many steps she took, though, the ocean stayed the exact same distance away. So she turned and ran parallel to it, racing to her left.

“Jones!”

He's always here. Always. But so is the sun, and it's not here now ... what does that mean?

She turned again, throwing her hands up in frustration. She raked her hair away from her face, then started jogging in the opposite direction.

“Jones!”

She ran and she ran, and she yelled and she yelled.

And she never got anywhere.

*





ADELE WOKE WITHOUT opening her eyes. She held still for a long moment, trying to get a sense of her surroundings. A machine whirring. The sound of footsteps in the distance, the distinct squeak of rubber against linoleum. And a certain, familiar smell hung in the air.

She was in the hospital.

She lifted her eyelids and blinked them rapidly, trying to clear her vision. For a moment, she thought she was waking up from the coma again. She'd been dreaming about a beach. Her beach. Their beach. Since she'd woken up, she'd never dreamed about any of their places. To suddenly be thrust into that world again, and just as abruptly woken from it, well ... disorienting wasn't a strong enough word.

Am I really awake? Maybe this is the dream, and the other place is reality.

“How are you feeling?”

Adele froze at the sound of a voice. The voice. She didn't dare turn to look for fear movement would scare the dream away.

Please, please, please ...

“You had a little fainting spell,” Jones appeared in her field of vision. She stopped breathing. “And because of your past history, we felt it was best to move you into a room. Your doctor – Dr. Martin – is on his way down here.”

She stared at him. She'd crossed eternity with this man, and yet at that moment, he felt like ... a stranger. He was moving around the room with a professional air, checking the machinery running around her and reading over her medical file, not sparing her any glances at all. He was acting like she was just some ... patient.

It was almost like he didn't know her.

“I fainted,” she finally breathed. He glanced up from the file and gave her a tight smile.

He definitely looked different, that was for sure – her Jones had always been clean shaven, his hair neatly styled, his fashion sense bordering on preppy.

This Jones had what looked like two days worth of stubble on his face, and his dirty blond hair was a cute, but messy, mop on his head. He had on a pair of soft blue scrubs, with a gray thermal shirt underneath, and he was marching around in a pair of old Nike's. Everything looked well worn.

Yet there was no doubt it, it was him. The same man. The perfectly proportioned nose, the firm jaw, the full bottom lip. Peeking out at the edge of his stubble, she could even make out a tiny scar just under his ear. Funny, she'd memorized its shape long ago, but she'd never thought to ask him about it.

And the coup de grace – those eyes. He glanced at her again and she got their full dose. Deep green whirlpools, prying into her thoughts and her soul. They didn't hold their usual warmth, there was no hidden smile in them right now, but they did look friendly and concerned, and that was good enough for her.

“I know you,” she croaked out, and he finally smiled at her.

“I suppose in a way, yes,” he agreed, but that just confused her.

“In a way?”

“We've never been formally introduced,” he told her, then he pulled up a chair and sat next to her bed. “I'm Johannes Lund, I was your nurse.”

He held out his hand and she stared at it like she didn't know what to do with it. He wanted to shake hands with her? She racked her brain, trying to remember if they'd ever shaken hands. Even during their first meeting, he'd just been so immediately comfortable with her, holding her and rocking her through her fears on the train.