Chapter 14
The surgery is agonizing. Anesthesia never lasts, burning through my blood too quickly to ever numb the pain. I feel every cut and pull in my thigh as they reach for the bullet, cauterize the artery, remove the metal, and drag the thread of stitches through my skin.
I lay in the bed in the recovery room now, staring up at the ceiling as the pain finally starts to subside in my body. Something shuffles near the door, and my eyes flit to a dark form as it walks into the room.
Bucky lingers near the wall, slowly walking towards me, his boots hitting along the floor with each slow step towards the bed. I sit up a little bit as he draws nearer, and his eyes meet mine as he slowly sits down in the chair beside me.
“Hey.” He says quietly, his eyes scanning over my body quickly before returning to my face.
I cross my arms over my chest, trying to look nonchalant.
“Hi.” I answer, looking at the dark circles under his eyes. “What’s up?”
He exhales loudly, running a hand through his hair.
“Are you okay?” He asks, looking over at the monitor showing my steady heartbeat.
I nod, pulling the sheet back to reveal the wrapping of gauze along my thigh.
“Totally fine.” I answer, pulling the sheet back down. “It’ll be gone by tomorrow.”
He laughs, one dark, low laugh.
“I forget that you aren’t as fragile as I left you.” He murmurs, his gaze shifting down to his hands in his lap.
I shrug, leaning back slightly.
“Not weak.” I answer quietly. “Still breakable.”
His eyes flash back up to me as he leans forward, his face filling with pain as he looks at me.
“Lizzie, I’m sorry.” He murmurs, reaching a hand out to me, resting it with an open palm against the bed. “I just didn’t want to hurt you.”
I scoff at him, keeping my hands locked around my body.
“But you did anyway.” I answer bitterly. “You left me in 1944, and that wasn’t your fault. But I spent my life trying to find you, risking everything to find you, and you pushed me away like it meant nothing. You left me again.”
My breathing is jagged as I look at him, and he nods slowly as he looks back, swallowing hard.
“You’re right.” He whispers. “I shouldn’t have left you then, and I definitely shouldn’t have left you now.”
I don’t answer as watch him stand up. He steps closer, and sits on the edge of the bed, looking down at me with clear blue eyes.
“I should’ve run away with you.” He whispers, his hand reaching out and brushing gently against my cheek. “I should’ve taken you far away from the city, away from the chaos of the war.”
His fingers twist into a lock of my hair, brushing through it gently.
“I should’ve taken you on dates to diners, and held your hand.” He continues. “I should’ve taken you dancing, every night.”
My eyes fill with tears as he smiles, the most heartbreakingly beautiful, crooked smile I’ve ever seen.
“And when I was sure you had fallen for me, I should’ve taken you to the beach, and asked you to be my wife.” He whispers, his hands cupping either side of my face as he looks at me.
His thumb runs along my cheek, wiping away a tear as he leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss against my lips. I kiss him back, intertwining my fingers into his soft hair as I do. He leans away after a moment, resting his forehead against mine as his eyes flit open.
“Can I have just one last chance to make it up to you?” He whispers, running a finger along your cheek again as he asks.
You take a deep breath sliding your own finger along the side of his face, cupping his chin in your hand as you nod slowly.
“Of course.” You whisper back. “I love you James.”
He smiles again, climbing onto the bed beside you before wrapping you in his arms, pressing a flood of gentle kisses along your hair.
“I love you Lizzie.” He mumbles, squeezing you gently.