One

Judson

I can't believe I'm back in Boulder after all this time. I wish I could've convinced McKenzie to have her baby anywhere else in the world. But I'm happy for her, and after everything she put up with while she was raising me, I owe it to her.

When Mom split after Dad died, McKenzie dropped out of college to take care of a moody younger brother when she could've stuck me in the state's care. I love her more than anything and would do anything for her.

Which is what has me parking my Jeep in the hospital lot and staring up at the brick building where I spent four days recovering after River and I got away from Ian's house. This is the last building I stepped foot in before leaving Boulder. It's the place where I left River without a goodbye.

My hands shake as I unbuckle my seatbelt and get out of the car. This is where McKenzie asked to meet me, so I'm going to push the past back where it belongs and grit my teeth through this. If I want to be there when my nephew is born, I'll have to enter the hospital at some point anyway.

I take a breath for courage, then cross the parking lot to enter through the automatic doors. As soon as the scent of antiseptic hits my nose, my throat tightens. I remember being wheeled in here on a gurney as I asked one of the EMTs over and over where River was.

My eyes sting, and I lower my gaze to the floor, but that just brings up memories of seeing my own blood splattered on the tile as it dripped from the gurney. Waking up from surgery to see McKenzie's worried face hovering above me. Asking for River and being told he was in a medically induced coma.

And the entire time, knowing that it was all my fault.

My throat tightens, and it feels like my lungs are shutting down. It's as though no air will come into my body no matter how hard I gasp. My vision's tunneling, turning dark at the edges.

I lean against the wall to try and steady myself, but it doesn't work. My palms grow clammy, and chills race up my spine.

"Sir?" A hand touches my arm. "Sir, can you hear me?"

I try to answer, but my mouth doesn't want to work. My brain can't form any words to send out. It feels like my whole body is trying to shut itself down.

"Sir? Can you tell me your name?"

I try to shake my head, but my neck won't work either. The room is spinning, so I let my body sink to the floor.

"Hey!" the voice yells. "I need some help over here!"

Footsteps sound to my right, and then another person is on my other side, a strong hand on my back, helping me lean back against the wall for support.

"Just take a deep breath," a new voice says. "You're okay."

The new voice sounds familiar. Like I heard it in another life. It feels…warm. Safe.

I blink and lift my head enough to look at the new person who's checking my pulse. He's older. Stubble lines his jaw. His hair is buzzed instead of thick and full like it used to be when we were teenagers. He's traded in his torn jeans and T-shirts for a set of dark-blue scrubs.

No matter how many changes he's made to himself, I could recognize the only boy I ever loved anywhere.

It's River St. James.

"Can you tell me your name?" River asks, and I frown as I try to understand what he's saying. He should remember my name. I knew him just from his voice alone.

"Tell me your name," the first voice orders.

I blink as River's long fingers touch my wrist gently, looking for my pulse. "Judson," I say. "Judson Clark."

River's gaze flicks to mine before going back to my arm. "How old are you, Judson?"

Irritation licks at my chest. "You know how old I am."

"I didn't ask if I knew," he replies, his voice even. "Give me your age."

"Twenty-three," I grit out, pulling my arm from his grasp. "And I'm fine."

"We should get him checked out," the first guy says. "You can—"

"No," I interrupt. "I just came here to see someone. I don't need anything."

"He's okay," River says, to my surprise. "I'll make sure he gets some water."

Reluctance shines in the other guy's eye, but he backs off when someone in white shoves open a door and catches his attention.

As soon as he's gone, I shove up from the floor. My head spins, and I reach back for the wall to steady myself, but what I grab instead is River's hand. It's stronger than it was when we were teenagers, and it's a lot steadier than it was the last time I held it.

"You're still having panic attacks?" River asks, his voice low.

"No, I just got too hot."

His eyes narrow as disbelief fills them. Of course he would know I'm lying. The very first one I'd had was in front of River, at my dad's funeral. He'd led me away before anyone could see me, to the hidden place we had between our houses. A small alleyway on the back of our fences that was so overgrown with trees and brush that you couldn't tell it had a pathway unless you knew it was there.

He hadn't said anything back then, just tucked me against his chest and held me tight.

"Come on," River says when I don't say anything more. "I'll take you to see McKenzie."

Relief floods through me at the topic change. "How's she doing? She said everything was okay with the baby. Is that true?"

"I don't work on the L&D level, but I see her pretty frequently, and she seems healthy."

His voice sounds so clinical when he talks. Like he doesn't want to say anything that might be too personal. It hurts more than I have the right to let it. Once upon a time, I knew River better than anyone. We were best friends. Then we were captives together. Then we were lovers. Each other's first time.

Now what are we?

"This is her room," River says, stopping outside a plain blue door. "I'll see you around."

"Wait." I reach out and grab his hand before he can turn.

His gaze drifts to where my hand is gripping his before lifting his eyes back to my face. "What?"

I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. There are so many things I want to say to him. So many things I need to say to him. "I need to get to work. Say hi to your sister for me."

Then he slides his hand from mine and heads down the hall without a backward glance.