Danielle Steel - The Kiss

“Bill…” He kissed her hand as she said it, and had to choke back a sob so he could talk to her. He wanted to reward her for what she'd done.

“Isabelle, I love you so much…. What a good girl you are. You worked so hard to come back.”

“Yes,” she whispered to him as her eyes closed again, and this time she opened them on her own. “I love you …” she whispered, and then said his name again, as though she were savoring the word.

“I think this is where we left off,” he said, smiling through his tears. It had been a lifetime and more since the night they'd kissed and been hit by the bus. “You've been gone too long, my love. I missed you so much.”

“Talk to me …” she said softly, with a smile, as Bill, the nurse, and the doctor laughed. He had been talking to her for three weeks, and for hours that night. It was as though he had known all along that he could bring her back. He had never given up, although recently he had gotten discouraged, but he had never stopped. “Like … to hear you … talk,” she said, as though she was immensely tired, which Bill realized she probably was. She had worked hard.

“I like to hear you talk. I've waited a long time to hear you talk to me. Where have you been, my love?” he said softly, still holding her hand.

“Gone,” she said, and smiled again, and then looked at him with a thousand questions in her eyes. She knew he had the answers she did not. “How long?”

“Three weeks,” he answered her honestly, and she looked surprised.

“So much?” She seemed to be struggling to find the words, but she was doing fine, and the doctor watching her thought so too.

“So much.” There was so much to tell her eventually, so much to share, but it was still too soon. She had just landed from a very distant place.

And then she thought of something and looked at him with worried eyes. “Teddy … and Sophie?”

“They're fine.” He hoped he wasn't lying to her, since he didn't have recent news, and he knew Teddy hadn't been well. But he was sure that once he knew his mother had come back, the boy's condition would improve. “Sophie was here. She came to visit you. She's a wonderful girl, and she looks exactly like you.” Isabelle smiled and closed her eyes, and when she opened them, there was another question in them. Bill knew what the question was, he could almost read her mind. “He was here.” She nodded, and then quickly winced.

“My head … hurts.”

“I'll bet it does.” That was easy to believe.

“Other … things … too.” The doctor was interested in hearing about that, and he asked her a few questions then, but he was enormously pleased, and suggested that they should both get some rest, they had had a big night. Isabelle looked worried by what the doctor said, as the orderlies came to take Bill away. “No … don't go….” She held his hand more tightly than she had been till then. And Bill looked at the doctor questioningly.

“Could I stay here?” There was a long pause while the doctor considered it. There was no real reason why they couldn't do that. They were adults, and friends, and the nurses could keep an eye on both of them. It seemed a suitable reward for what Bill had done for her that night, and there was something about it that felt right to him.

“I think that's a fine idea.” Bill wasn't on the monitors anymore, all he needed was his IV pole next to his bed, and pain medications if he asked for them, which he seldom did.

“I want you to sleep here,” Isabelle said, clinging to his hand, as Bill beamed at her. She was back, she was alive, she had come back to him. It was the happiest night of his life. They were both smiling as the nurses settled them. The doctor examined Isabelle carefully, and he was satisfied. He asked her a few more questions, and she talked to him about how her head felt. She said her body felt too small now, everything inside felt too tight, and he explained that she was feeling her internal injuries and would for a while. There was plenty of time to examine her further the next day. What they both needed now was rest.

The nurse turned off all but one small light, and another nurse came to help turn Bill onto his side. He was pleased because he could see her better that way. He didn't want to sleep, he just wanted to look at her all night, and see her face, touch her hand. She was still holding his hand, as they lay facing each other, and she looked like a child as she smiled at him. It struck him that she was the image of Sophie.

“You're so beautiful,” he whispered to her, “and I love you so much.” She'd been worth waiting for, for the past three weeks, and a lifetime before that.

“I missed you while I was gone,” she whispered to him.

“How do you know?” he whispered back, while the nurse smiled from the corner of the room.

“I just do.” They were like two children at a slumber party, whispering in the dark, as the doctor and the other nurse left the room. They were both smiling and exchanged a long look outside. They were a beautiful sight to see. None of them had expected Isabelle to survive.

The doctor called Paris that night to tell Gordon that his wife was no longer comatose, he felt he owed him that. But Gordon was out, and the doctor told the woman who answered the phone, Teddy's nurse, to tell Mr. Forrester that he'd called. He didn't want to leave any further message, and Bill and Isabelle would have been grateful to him if they'd known.

It felt as though they had always slept together, as they lay there facing each other. Isabelle tried to turn on her back once, but it hurt too much to move her head, so she turned back again toward Bill, and he was wide awake, watching her.

“What happened to you?” she asked, she had just noticed the enormous brace around his neck, she hadn't seen it before. There had been too much going on, but now she looked worried about him.

“I hurt my neck, and my back. I'll be fine,” he said, smiling at her. He would now. This was all he had wanted for three weeks.

“Are you sure?”

“I'm sure. I've never felt better in my life than I do right now.”

“Me too.” And then she looked at him pensively. “I don't remember anything … how did we get here?”

“That, my love, is a very long story we can talk about tomorrow. We got hit by a bus.” He wasn't going to tell her for a while that eleven people had died, and she had very nearly made it twelve. “The last thing I knew I was kissing you, and then I was here.”

“I remember that too,” she smiled sleepily, as she yawned. He would have liked to kiss her again, but he couldn't move. He could only lie as he was, and all he could do was touch her face or her hand. “One of these days, I'd like to kiss you again,” she said dreamily, and Bill didn't respond. There was a long pause as he contemplated the possibility that, in his own eyes, he might no longer be a man. And he quietly held her hand. It was all he could offer her now. “I hope the children are all right,” she said, thinking about them, and unaware of Bill's terrors about his ability to perform.

“They will be when they hear about you,” he reassured her.

But for an instant, she looked sad, and tightened her hold on Bill's hand. “And then he'll come back again, won't he?” He didn't want to tell her that her husband hadn't been back to see her in two weeks. He didn't think it was his place, and he had come to hate the man, for everything he didn't do for her, and the ugly things he did.

“Let's not think about that now,” Bill whispered to her. “Why don't you close your eyes and try to sleep.” He wished he could stroke her hair.

“I thought you wanted me to wake up,” she teased. She was definitely going to be all right, after three weeks in a coma, and an accident she almost hadn't survived, she hadn't changed. Her spirit was still strong. In the end, that and his love were what had brought her back.