I can feel you watching me. You're gently caressing my side with your hand, and I can picture you propped up on your other hand, staring at me. You've always said it's your most favourite way to fall asleep, and whom I am to complain? I roll over to face you, snuggling into your welcoming arm, running my hand up your chest. It's bitterly cold outside, but we're numb to it; we don't mind. We're warm inside. Aren't we? You're shaking, shivering. I tilt my head up to look at you and I see tears slipping down your cheeks.
"Rick." I reach up and brush my thumb across the plane of your cheekbone. "Don't cry."
You smile sadly, apologetically. "I'm sorry…I just keep replaying today over in my mind. I almost lost you Kate."
I inhale sharply, the events of the day unfolding again in my head. Chasing our suspect down the alley, faltering when he pulled out a gun, instantly regretting that split second hesitation as I heard the gunshot, feeling the bullet graze the side of my skull and penetrate the wall behind me.
"Rick, don't think about it. I'm right here." I murmur, pressing my lips to your shoulder, to your neck and to your jaw. "I'll always been here."
"I know. It's just…seeing you in that hospital bed…I kept thinking, what if you didn't come home?" Your voice is soft, vulnerable.
I push myself up the bed so my face is level with yours. I cup your cheek with my hand, running my thumb back and forth under your eye.
"You're the reason I come home, Rick. When everything is falling apart," I run my hand down to rest over your heart. "I come home, to you."
"You can't know that every day you're going to come home." You whisper, holding me tighter. I can feel your heart beating furiously, helplessly.
I pause before I answer, choosing my words carefully. "No…no I can't promise that there's never going to be a day where I don't come home. But Rick, I can promise that I will always try my best, I will try with everything I have, to come home to you."