Wake Up and Smell the Coffee

Danny stared at the ticking clock over Claire’s door, holding his head in one hand, a mug of bone broth Annie had insisted upon in the other. He hadn’t moved from that spot since Greyson had been taken to an adjoining room for a closer checkup. His last words to Danny still echoed in his ears.

I’m sorry. She still won’t see you.

“I’m going to be a priest.” The front doors blew open, and Danny fumbled with his mug before rushing to Ian being hauled inside by Fin.

“What happened to him?”

“He had a God moment.” Fin rolled his eyes with a small smile. “This big idiot went after Henderson alone and nearly had his brains blown out. Would have too if Officer Murphy hadn’t gotten there in time.”

“He’s dead then?”

“Aye.” Ian smirked through a busted lip and clapped the side of Danny’s neck. “He died and crushed me. Thought I’d died and ended up in the wrong place for moment, but it would seem my friend upstairs has work for me here.” He smiled wider. “I’m going to be a priest.”

“Yeah, we knew that already.” Fin dragged him to the chair Danny vacated, and they both eased him down.

“But I didn’t.” His smile slowly faded. “I’m a screw-up, Finlay. I don’t understand why he called me.”

Fin bent forward, coming eye to eye with him. “I’m beginning to think the screw-ups are his favorite.”

“Sweet Jesus, Ian. What did you do this time?” Annie came down the hall with a tray in her hands.

“Did I ever tell you you’re my favorite aunt?”

“Finlay, put him in room four.” She looked pointedly at Ian. “I’ll be in soon to deal with you.”

Ian grinned a bloody-toothed smile.

“Here, I brought some tea for Claire. She needs hot beverages.” Annie shoved the tray into Danny’s hands.

“But she doesn’t want to see me.”

“Danny Boy, are you really going to give up so easily?”

“I—”

She patted his cheek. “There’s an extra mug for you too.”

“But I can’t drink it.” He swallowed hard. “I can’t drink tea anymore.”

Claire heard the click of the door. She didn’t have to turn to know he was there. His quiet presence filled the space like oxygen filled a needy lung. But she didn’t need him anymore—no, that wasn’t true. He was the sun in her darkness. The rain on her desiccated heart.

She braced against the tide of him. The pull his mere presence asked of her, demanded of her. All she had to do was speak one word, and his all-encompassing warmth would replace the insignificant heating pads around her.

Her uninjured fingers curled into the underside of the blanket. She couldn’t ask. He wasn’t hers anymore.

How did one learn to live with only a fraction of themselves?

His footsteps neared, and she kept her eyes closed, listening to his weighted sigh as he set a tray down near her bed. The back of warm fingers brushed against the side of her face, checking the temperature of her skin. Heavy blankets drew up higher and the underside of her eyelids pooled when the tips of his fingers gently tucked the blankets securely around her.

“Ah, Claire,” he whispered, his hand coming back to her face. This time it ran along her cheek as he moved her hair away, then traced her bruised jaw. “How am I going to fix this?”

He went quiet again, and she wondered if he was thinking of how to lie to her. To manipulate her into staying with him.

She clamped down hard on her lip and heart, speaking through clenched teeth. “You can’t.”

The hand on her cheek stilled but didn’t lift. “Are you warm enough?”

Slowly, she turned, brows drawn together. “Did you hear me?”

“I heard you. Careful, love, you can’t get up.” He eased her back as his bloodshot eyes roamed her face.

“I want to check on Greyson.”

“Sweetheart, not yet. I’ll make sure they—”

“Stop calling me those names.”

“What names?” He looked genuinely confused.

“Sweetheart, love ... just call me Madelynn.”

His jaw pulsed. “I’m not calling you that.” He reached down and the top of her bed slowly lifted. “Annie made you tea.”

“I don’t want tea.”

“You need hot liquids. When Annie finishes fixing Ian up, I’ll make sure she updates you on Greyson.”

“What’s the matter with Ian?”

“He pulled a McClellan on Henderson and nearly lost.” Her brows slowly lifted and he half-smiled. “It means he almost died when his fists couldn’t compete with Henderson’s gun. If it hadn’t been for Officer Murphy’s good aim, he’d be singing with the angels right now.”

She gripped the blanket over her chest. “And Henderson?”

His darkened gaze didn’t waver. “He’s gone, Claire. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

She sank back with a heavy breath, and he repositioned her pillows, propping her up. He held out a mug. Her eyes froze on the vibration in his hand, then slowly traveled up the stretch of his sweater sleeve along his corded forearm and over his thick bicep.

Those arms had held her, carried her. Longing pulled taut in her belly, and she blinked it away before giving in to the need to touch him.

“Claire,” he whispered. “Please, don’t look away from me.”

She dropped her head and took the mug, careful not to touch his fingers. “I have my tea. You can go.”

A chair scraped and plunked down close to her, and Danny dropped into it, taking his own mug. His heavy stare burned into the side of her face as the silence stretched. “Why haven’t you asked me?”

“I have nothing to ask you.”

“Yes, you do, lov—Claire, so ask me.”

The question swelled and caught in her throat. She shook her head.

He leaned forward, whispering, “Kick my face, Claire.”

Her eyes cut to him. “So you can lie to me?”

“When have I ever lied to you?”

“All of it, us, was a lie.”

“That’s what you think?”

He hissed as black liquid splashed from the rim of his cup onto his hand.

“Coffee?”

“Yes.” He held her eyes as he snatched napkins. “Coffee.”

But he hated coffee.

“Ask. Me,” he said between clenched teeth, and she closed her eyes.

“Just leave, Daniel.”

“No.” His voice was suddenly closer, a gentle wisp near her ear. “I don’t want to lose you.”

She jerked away. “Perhaps you should have thought of that before you dressed your wife up like me to screw her in your office.”

“You think I ... I didn’t. Wouldn’t.” His voice deepened, fingers curling into fists on his thighs. “And don’t bullshit this conversation by giving her that title. She isn’t my wife anymore. She never really was. Nothing with her was real. Claire, look at me.”

She shook her head.

“Please, swe—Claire.”

She kept still, swallowing all her words.

“If you won’t ask then I’ll say it. I didn’t cheat on you. I would never do that to you.”

Fire blazed from her belly. “I saw you.”

“What did you see?”

“Is this a joke?”

“No.” He jammed a shaking hand into his hair. “Far from it.”

“Then why would you ask me to relive it?”

“I’m asking because ... ” He reached out, but she pulled back. “Claire, I’m asking because I don’t remember much.”

“You don’t remember that you ... ” She scraped away traitorous tears. “That you ... you said my name while you, you ... ” A sob gushed out.

He sprang up and took her face in his hands. “I said your name because it was you, Claire. In my mind, I was with you.”

“What kind of sick game are you—”

“I thought I over brewed it.” His voice cracked. “But the bitterness in my tea wasn’t because the leaves were too strong. There was something in it. Something I had no idea would make me do what I did. I didn’t know—God, Claire, I didn’t think Jess would go so far as to drug me and dress up like you to get me to touch her.”

She winced at the word “touch” and tried to turn away. He kept her face in his hands and gently thumbed under her eyes. “I didn’t want to touch her, Claire. In my messed-up state, I thought I was touching you.”

“That’s quite the story, Daniel.”

“It’s the truth, I swear it.” He pressed his forehead against hers and whispered, “I love you, Claire.”

Her bottom lip shook, and she clamped down hard on it. “I don’t want to hear that from you.” Not now.

“Please, let me say it. I love you. Only you.” He removed her lip from her teeth and stroked a delicate caress along it. “I’ve loved you from the moment you took the time to apologize to this bitter, hurting man at a bar for the shit his wife did to him. And I would—” His voice broke. “I would do anything to go back and not drink that tea. To take what you saw out of your mind and put what was in my mind, what I saw, what I thought I was doing, so you’d know I’m telling you the truth.”

“I-I can’t do this.”

Tears fell unchecked as he dropped beside her on the bed. “Tell me you don’t love me then. Say it to my face.”

She shook her head.

“Say it, Claire. Or better yet, tell me you think I’m the kind of man that would cheat on you—in front of you.”

“Just stop.” She closed her eyes. She couldn’t get a clear thought.

“Claire, I know this is a shitty mess, but give me a chance to show you the truth. Please.” He bent lower and the tip of his nose stroked along her cheek.

She squeezed her eyes so tight they ached. “I need you to leave.”

“Love, please.”

“Leave,” she whimpered.

“Claire—”

“Leave me.”

He swung off the bed, and his heavy, unsteady feet staggered to the door.

She expected a door slam. A loud curse. But instead, it was a silent retreat. A door closing with a quiet click.

A sob tore free.

She gripped the blankets he’d tucked around her and sank into the pillows he’d anchored.

She’d made a mistake—no, she hadn’t. She’d seen them. But his story. Drugged? But he ... her mind misfired. Every thought and feeling, thick. Dark. Clarity just out of reach. She couldn’t ... couldn’t ... everything—all of it too much to sift through. Flashes of thought moved in a tangled web, running the gauntlet of her emotions.

I’m asking because I don’t remember.

His arms wrapped around Jessica.

In my mind, I was with you.

His lips on her body.

I love you. Only you.

Her name on his mouth ... her name, not Jessica’s.

I would do anything to go back and not drink that tea.

The smell of coffee wedged into her thoughts, and she followed the scent to Danny’s abandoned mug. Her racing mind suddenly cleared of every thought but one.

Why coffee?

Tingles burst and scattered across her skin, raising the tiny hairs. “Oh, Daniel.” She knew. Of course she knew.

But she’d let him go.

No, oh God, she pushed him away.

A thump vibrated her door, and she startled, cocking an ear to listen. Another noise came, followed by another, and it drew her to the edge of the bed. It was muffled and distorted, but there was something within the sound. Something so raw her heart raced. “Who’s out there?”

The bump crashed again, and the door broke open. There, on the floor, was a large, crumpled body. Knees up, hands yanking on blond hair, Danny’s shoulders curled into themselves. His body twitched in uncontrolled jerks.

Then it came. The sound of him sliced through the opening straight into her center. It was a cry so fractured she splintered with it, and his words after their first kiss rushed in. I’m afraid of what you could do to me—here.

She broke him. Without realizing, she did exactly what she promised him she’d never do.

“Daniel.”

Her body forgot its brokenness and lunged forward, twisting her wrapped ankle. She cried out, catching the rail in her good hand, and swung halfway off the bed.

The door slammed into the wall, and a moment later, warmth wrapped underneath her, scooping her up. After all she’d said—all she did—he was here, face blotchy and wrung, watery eyes darting all over, checking for fresh injuries.

“Oh, Daniel, I’m so sorry.” She reached for him and missed.

His face didn’t register hearing her as he eased her down onto the bed with a gentleness that defied the strength of him. He avoided her eyes before turning to leave.

“Wait.” She caught his forearm, and he went still. “Darling, I-I believe you.”

Air choked up in his throat, but he didn’t move, didn’t look her way.

“Please forgive me.”

“Don’t.”

“I should have believed you, Daniel. I’m so—”

“Do not,” he whipped around, grabbing her face, “apologize to me again.”

He was so angry. His face twisted in ... disgust? She shriveled, sinking backward.

“No.” He kept her face in his hands, not letting her slip through.

“I understand why you’re angry at me.”

“I’m not angry at you.” His bloodshot eyes bounced back and forth between hers. “No more assuming things by my face anymore, okay? Just ask me. And with what you’d seen with me and ... I don’t ... why, Claire? Why do you believe me?”

“You hate coffee,” she whispered. “But you gave up drinking tea because of her.”

“No, not her, you.” The last word hitched. “Claire, you almost died because I had to have one more cup of tea.”

“Daniel, it wasn’t your fault.” She was touching him. When had she started touching him? Drinking in the dampness on his face through her fingers. “I broke my promise to you.”

“No, Claire. This shitty mess of mine—”

“Ours.” She swiped under his eyes and then curled her fingers around one of the hands still cradling her face. “Our mess, not yours. And listen to me.” She pulled on the back of his neck, closing the chasm between them, until his forehead anchored hers. “If I had to be in a mess with someone, to drive straight into a great big pile of shit with anyone, I’d want it to be you.” More tears rolled over her uneven smile. “Because wherever you are, my love, it is so, so beautiful.”

His hands tightened on her face, eyes blinking fast, voice tight like he strained to keep control. “Say that again, Claire.”

“You and me. Together. Driving through shit. Making our messes beautiful.”

A laugh gusted out of him and ended in a choked sob.

“No, no, Daniel. Oh, come here.” Curling her good arm around his neck, her fingers tucked into his hair and brought his head down to her shoulder. She stroked through his thick, tangled strands. “I do love you. I love you so much I can hardly breathe sometimes.”

His face turned, burying in her neck, and with a gentle brush of his mouth on her skin, he whispered, “I haven’t taken a full breath since I met you.”

She squeezed him, and his arms slid around her, finding the exposed skin where her hospital gown tied shut and slipped inside. They lost themselves in each other’s arms, each other’s warmth, breathing together until their heartbeats slowed and their minds accepted this moment as real.

“Will you do me a favor?” she whispered.

“Anything.”

“Would you get under these covers and kiss me?”

His lips slowly pulled up at the corners. “God, yes.”

She chuckled, and he said, “I love that sound.”

His mouth lightly skimmed hers. Pulling back an inch, he drank in her features before quickly returning, his kiss hungry but careful over her cut lip as she opened for him. They took their time re-exploring, tasting, savoring.

“Claire, my Claire.” He moved from her mouth to cover every cut, every bruise on her face. “I love you so much.”

Slipping off his boots and shirt, he carefully scooted her over and crawled in, surrounding her with himself. When the heat of him consumed all of her, they exhaled together.

“Only you,” he whispered, walking delicate kisses down her neck.

“Only ever you,” she answered.