Kenny let out a rough sound and hauled her close for a tight, hard hug.

At the hospital, the doctor came out and looked at Summer. “Mrs. Walker.”

“Yes,” she said without qualm. “Tell me.”

“He’s in ICU. Stab wound to the thigh, broken sternum, three cracked ribs, and we’re watching his O2 stats to make sure his lungs are okay. He’s also got a severely bruised spinal cord and a concussion. No elevation of intracranial pressure so far, which is promising.”

Summer covered her mouth, nodded her head. “Can I see him?”

“One at a time for brief periods of time.”

He lay so still in the bed, one arm and shoulder in a sling, the rest of him covered in sheets and bandages, and connected to all sorts of machines that bleeped and blipped. But his chest rose and fell, and keeping her eyes on that, she sat next to his bed and stroked his fingers. “That was a damn stupid thing to do,” she told him. “I had things under control. You didn’t have to be the hero. You didn’t have to try to save me.” She stared at his far-too-still face. “I’ve been so stupid, Joe, so slow, and all along, the truth was there.” She leaned in, close to his ear. “You are my whole life. I don’t know how I ever lived it without you.” A tear escaped and she sniffed, wishing she had a tissue but not wanting to leave his side for a second. “Are you listening to me, Joe Walker?”

“Hard not to.” Eyes still closed, he grimaced, and licked his dry lips. “You’re shouting.”

“Oh my God. Joe! I love you so much.”

“Well look at that,” he said slowly, eyes still closed. “You didn’t…choke over it.”

She let out a laughing sob. “No, I didn’t choke on it.”

“How bad is Bill?” He spoke very softly, as if it hurt to talk.

No doubt, it did. It must hurt to even breathe. “Just a few bumps and bruises. He’s going to jail.”

“Tina?”

“Joe, please,” she begged. “Don’t worry about any of us. Just rest.”

Opening his eyes, he took in her face, then blanched. “You’re crying.” He closed his eyes again. “Oh, Christ. I finally get you to say you love me and I’m dying.”

“You’re not—”

“My head’s going to fall off. And I have this pain in my chest—”

“That’s the concussion and the broken ribs.”

“No. I see a bright white light. You’d better devote yourself to me for the few minutes I have left. Let me die a happy man. Just say you’ll marry me. Then I can let go.”

“Joe.” She had to laugh. “I’d promise you the moon, but—”