I am not afraid to love.
I move toward the door, slowly at first, but eventually start to run. When I reach the door, breathless and exhilarated, I grab the handle and pull hard. It’s heavy and does not open easily, but I don’t give up. I grasp harder and pull with all my strength, will it to give with all my might. I don’t know what’s on the other side, but I know I have to get there.
With one final heave, the door swings open.
“I am not afraid to love,” I whisper.
And I run through.
I woke up with a start, my eyelids flying open. Immediately it all comes back to me—the phone call with Emme, the messages and email from Dallas, the dream.
“Shit!” I hadn’t meant to fall asleep. I look at the clock on the bedside table and see it’s after seven already. “Shit, shit, shit!” Was Dallas in surgery already? I’d never replied to his email!
I jumped out of bed and frantically got dressed, brushed my teeth, and braided my disheveled hair, all the while throwing all my crap into my suitcase without even folding it. Thankfully, my phone had charged all night. My first call was to Emme.
“Hello?” she said sleepily.
“Hey, it’s me. Listen. I’m not coming home today. I’m going to Boston.”
“You are?” Suddenly she was wide awake.
“Yes. I read Dallas’s messages.”
She squealed. “You did?”
“Yes.” My stomach was jumping around like mad. “And at first I wasn’t sure what to believe, but now I think you were right and he is being sincere. At least, my gut is telling me that.”
“Oh God, Maren. I’m going to feel really bad if I’m wrong.”
“You won’t have to.” I shut my suitcase and zipped it up. “This is my choice. I know it’s a risk, but I’m willing to take it. I can’t be afraid of love, Emme. Madam Psuka was right. Even if it means getting hurt again, choosing love is always the right thing to do.”
Emme sniffed. “I’m going to cry.”
“Don’t cry. I need you.”
“Anything. What can I do?”
“Can you book me a hotel room in Boston? I don’t even know what hospital he’s in, and I won’t until I get hold of Finn, but any place will do.” I glanced around the room one last time.
“Consider it done. How are you getting to Boston?”
“I don’t know that either.”
She laughed. “This is crazy, Maren. But I kind of love it.”
“Wish me luck.”
“I don’t think you’re going to need it, but good luck.”
We hung up, and I rushed out of the room, dragging my suitcase behind me.
It turned out the easiest way for me to get to Boston was by bus. I caught a taxi into Bangor in time to get on the nine a.m. coach, and sank into my seat with relief. I felt like I’d hardly stopped moving since I’d woken up this morning. Once I was on my way, I used my phone to send an email to Finn.
Hey Finn, it’s Maren Devine. Dallas reached out to me, and I’m on my way to Boston. Can you please let me know which hospital he’s in? Thank you!
I gave him my phone number in case he wanted to text back, then sat back and exhaled. My emotions were all over the place—anxiety about the operation, relief about Dallas’s email, excitement about seeing him, uncertainty about the future. There were a lot of questions to be answered, but I told myself they could all wait. Right now, the most important thing was getting to his side. I felt terrible that he’d gone into surgery thinking I didn’t want him back. Hopefully, I’d be there when he woke up.
Hurry, I willed the bus driver. Hurry.
It was after noon, and I still had about an hour to go before reaching Boston when I got a text from Finn.
Maren, great to hear from you. Dallas is out of surgery, and the doctor said it went well. He was able to get it all.
I paused, dropping the phone to my lap, and tears welled in my eyes. I closed them in a silent prayer of thanks, and wiped beneath them when I couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over.
“Would you like a tissue?” asked the woman next to me, pulling a travel pack of Kleenex from her purse. She reminded me of one of the little old ladies in my Yoga for Seniors class.
I smiled at her and took one. “Thanks. It’s good news. I’m just a little emotional.”
“I understand.” She smiled back.
I dabbed at my eyes and went back to the text.
We are at Mass General. He’s in ICU right now, but all vitals are good. Text me when you arrive and I will come get you.
I replied, saying I would, and thanking him profusely. I wondered if he knew anything about the email Dallas had sent and what he thought about my coming to Boston. If he didn’t know, he probably thought I was nuts. Then again, he’d told me not to give up.
I texted Emme and Stella and brought them both up to speed, then I fidgeted and sighed and shifted around in my seat, impatient with the last portion of the ride. I needed to be there already!
Emme replied that she’d booked me a room at a hotel called The Liberty, and the reservation was under her name and credit card. I could switch it when I checked in. Stella replied that she was happy to hear the surgery went well and wished me luck.
When the bus stopped, I practically mowed people down to get off it and plowed through the station to get to the taxi line. On the way to Mass General, I fidgeted some more, and my stomach growled like crazy because I hadn’t ever stopped to eat anything.
At the hospital, I got out of the cab and rushed inside, where I texted Finn. He replied in seconds that he was on his way to get me. That was when I first stopped and thought about what I looked like. I hadn’t even showered, I was wearing gray yoga pants, a backless, loose-fitting, mint green top with an orange sports bra underneath, I hadn’t combed my hair before hastily whipping it into a braid, and a quick look at my feet revealed I’d worn two different shoes. I’d bought the same pair of mesh slip-ons in navy and brown because they were so comfortable, and I’d accidentally put on one of each this morning without knowing it.
I glanced at my suitcase and wondered if it would be terrible manners to open it up here in the lobby and dig out one or the other color. But before I came to a conclusion, I heard my name.
“Maren?”
I turned and saw an older, slightly less muscular version of Dallas walking toward me, holding a Styrofoam coffee cup. The resemblance was enough to make my belly flip-flop, although, as he got closer, I saw more differences. His hair was a little thinner and darker, his forehead had more lines, and his chin didn’t have a cleft. But when he smiled, I saw Dallas again.
“Hi,” I said, throwing my arms around him before I could stop myself.
He laughed and hugged me back a little awkwardly. “Hi. I’m glad you made it.”
“Me too.” I released him and stood back. “Although I’m a little mortified. I just realized I’m wearing two different shoes.”
Smiling, Finn shook his head. “Dallas isn’t going to care about your shoes, although that’s pretty funny. Your mind must have been elsewhere this morning?”
“Uh, yeah. So everything went okay?” I asked nervously.
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“Is he awake?”
“He’s sleeping right now. Follow me.”
While we walked to the elevators, Finn explained the surgery to me and said that even though he’d been awake, Dallas probably wouldn’t remember much and hadn’t felt any pain. “He’s got to be in neuro-ICU for at least a day so they can monitor him closely for bleeding, infection, or seizure activity. Barring any issues like that, he’ll be moved to the tenth floor tomorrow.”
I nodded. “Okay. Did the surgeon say whether the mass was benign or malignant?”
Finn smiled. “Looks benign. We’ll know for sure when the biopsy results are back.”
“Oh, thank God.” I touched my chest, breathing a huge sigh of relief.
“I didn’t tell him you were coming,” Finn said. “I wasn’t sure you wanted me to.”
I bit my lip. “Will the shock of seeing me hurt him?”
I move toward the door, slowly at first, but eventually start to run. When I reach the door, breathless and exhilarated, I grab the handle and pull hard. It’s heavy and does not open easily, but I don’t give up. I grasp harder and pull with all my strength, will it to give with all my might. I don’t know what’s on the other side, but I know I have to get there.
With one final heave, the door swings open.
“I am not afraid to love,” I whisper.
And I run through.
I woke up with a start, my eyelids flying open. Immediately it all comes back to me—the phone call with Emme, the messages and email from Dallas, the dream.
“Shit!” I hadn’t meant to fall asleep. I look at the clock on the bedside table and see it’s after seven already. “Shit, shit, shit!” Was Dallas in surgery already? I’d never replied to his email!
I jumped out of bed and frantically got dressed, brushed my teeth, and braided my disheveled hair, all the while throwing all my crap into my suitcase without even folding it. Thankfully, my phone had charged all night. My first call was to Emme.
“Hello?” she said sleepily.
“Hey, it’s me. Listen. I’m not coming home today. I’m going to Boston.”
“You are?” Suddenly she was wide awake.
“Yes. I read Dallas’s messages.”
She squealed. “You did?”
“Yes.” My stomach was jumping around like mad. “And at first I wasn’t sure what to believe, but now I think you were right and he is being sincere. At least, my gut is telling me that.”
“Oh God, Maren. I’m going to feel really bad if I’m wrong.”
“You won’t have to.” I shut my suitcase and zipped it up. “This is my choice. I know it’s a risk, but I’m willing to take it. I can’t be afraid of love, Emme. Madam Psuka was right. Even if it means getting hurt again, choosing love is always the right thing to do.”
Emme sniffed. “I’m going to cry.”
“Don’t cry. I need you.”
“Anything. What can I do?”
“Can you book me a hotel room in Boston? I don’t even know what hospital he’s in, and I won’t until I get hold of Finn, but any place will do.” I glanced around the room one last time.
“Consider it done. How are you getting to Boston?”
“I don’t know that either.”
She laughed. “This is crazy, Maren. But I kind of love it.”
“Wish me luck.”
“I don’t think you’re going to need it, but good luck.”
We hung up, and I rushed out of the room, dragging my suitcase behind me.
It turned out the easiest way for me to get to Boston was by bus. I caught a taxi into Bangor in time to get on the nine a.m. coach, and sank into my seat with relief. I felt like I’d hardly stopped moving since I’d woken up this morning. Once I was on my way, I used my phone to send an email to Finn.
Hey Finn, it’s Maren Devine. Dallas reached out to me, and I’m on my way to Boston. Can you please let me know which hospital he’s in? Thank you!
I gave him my phone number in case he wanted to text back, then sat back and exhaled. My emotions were all over the place—anxiety about the operation, relief about Dallas’s email, excitement about seeing him, uncertainty about the future. There were a lot of questions to be answered, but I told myself they could all wait. Right now, the most important thing was getting to his side. I felt terrible that he’d gone into surgery thinking I didn’t want him back. Hopefully, I’d be there when he woke up.
Hurry, I willed the bus driver. Hurry.
It was after noon, and I still had about an hour to go before reaching Boston when I got a text from Finn.
Maren, great to hear from you. Dallas is out of surgery, and the doctor said it went well. He was able to get it all.
I paused, dropping the phone to my lap, and tears welled in my eyes. I closed them in a silent prayer of thanks, and wiped beneath them when I couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over.
“Would you like a tissue?” asked the woman next to me, pulling a travel pack of Kleenex from her purse. She reminded me of one of the little old ladies in my Yoga for Seniors class.
I smiled at her and took one. “Thanks. It’s good news. I’m just a little emotional.”
“I understand.” She smiled back.
I dabbed at my eyes and went back to the text.
We are at Mass General. He’s in ICU right now, but all vitals are good. Text me when you arrive and I will come get you.
I replied, saying I would, and thanking him profusely. I wondered if he knew anything about the email Dallas had sent and what he thought about my coming to Boston. If he didn’t know, he probably thought I was nuts. Then again, he’d told me not to give up.
I texted Emme and Stella and brought them both up to speed, then I fidgeted and sighed and shifted around in my seat, impatient with the last portion of the ride. I needed to be there already!
Emme replied that she’d booked me a room at a hotel called The Liberty, and the reservation was under her name and credit card. I could switch it when I checked in. Stella replied that she was happy to hear the surgery went well and wished me luck.
When the bus stopped, I practically mowed people down to get off it and plowed through the station to get to the taxi line. On the way to Mass General, I fidgeted some more, and my stomach growled like crazy because I hadn’t ever stopped to eat anything.
At the hospital, I got out of the cab and rushed inside, where I texted Finn. He replied in seconds that he was on his way to get me. That was when I first stopped and thought about what I looked like. I hadn’t even showered, I was wearing gray yoga pants, a backless, loose-fitting, mint green top with an orange sports bra underneath, I hadn’t combed my hair before hastily whipping it into a braid, and a quick look at my feet revealed I’d worn two different shoes. I’d bought the same pair of mesh slip-ons in navy and brown because they were so comfortable, and I’d accidentally put on one of each this morning without knowing it.
I glanced at my suitcase and wondered if it would be terrible manners to open it up here in the lobby and dig out one or the other color. But before I came to a conclusion, I heard my name.
“Maren?”
I turned and saw an older, slightly less muscular version of Dallas walking toward me, holding a Styrofoam coffee cup. The resemblance was enough to make my belly flip-flop, although, as he got closer, I saw more differences. His hair was a little thinner and darker, his forehead had more lines, and his chin didn’t have a cleft. But when he smiled, I saw Dallas again.
“Hi,” I said, throwing my arms around him before I could stop myself.
He laughed and hugged me back a little awkwardly. “Hi. I’m glad you made it.”
“Me too.” I released him and stood back. “Although I’m a little mortified. I just realized I’m wearing two different shoes.”
Smiling, Finn shook his head. “Dallas isn’t going to care about your shoes, although that’s pretty funny. Your mind must have been elsewhere this morning?”
“Uh, yeah. So everything went okay?” I asked nervously.
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“Is he awake?”
“He’s sleeping right now. Follow me.”
While we walked to the elevators, Finn explained the surgery to me and said that even though he’d been awake, Dallas probably wouldn’t remember much and hadn’t felt any pain. “He’s got to be in neuro-ICU for at least a day so they can monitor him closely for bleeding, infection, or seizure activity. Barring any issues like that, he’ll be moved to the tenth floor tomorrow.”
I nodded. “Okay. Did the surgeon say whether the mass was benign or malignant?”
Finn smiled. “Looks benign. We’ll know for sure when the biopsy results are back.”
“Oh, thank God.” I touched my chest, breathing a huge sigh of relief.
“I didn’t tell him you were coming,” Finn said. “I wasn’t sure you wanted me to.”
I bit my lip. “Will the shock of seeing me hurt him?”
