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Teresa knows she is hovering, that she should leave the room, but she can't bring her feet to move to the door. She stands in the corner, watching as Taza’s reservation doctor stitches up a large gash across James right shoulder and chest. Her arms are crossed, eyebrows knitted with worry as she tries to calm her pounding heart. It should be enough to convince herself that he is okay as he is sitting right in front of her, but she can't shake this feeling of fear. James’ gaze flickers to her curiously every now and then, almost surprised that she is still in the room but he doesn't comment on it.
After Guero's death, Teresa tried to keep her distance from James, limiting their conversations to business only and avoiding spending time alone with him otherwise. They argue more, mostly about her decisions he feels are borderline reckless and it makes it easier to push him away. They never talk about what their night together meant to either of them. She thinks he figures she regrets it, that he was her second choice, but that is far from the truth. She remembers how it felt to be with him, to make him feel the love she told him he deserved instead of pain and self-loathing he carried inside.
He starts wearing his sunglasses more, and when he's not, sometimes Teresa thinks she sees flashes of sadness in his eyes before his walls go back up, but he respects the new line she has drawn through their partnership. Now she is the one causing him pain. She tells herself and her heart that it is safer for him this way, after all, look at what happens to the people she cares about most.
He grimaces through the pain while the doctor works, but doesn't make a sound. She notices a bruise blooming across his ribs opposite of his other injured side and there are various cuts and scrapes scattered across his body. Her eyes burn and she can't help but think, this is her fault . Everything in life had a price and this was a direct result of her reckless decisions.
Teresa had been having nightmares more frequently since Guero had died. Sometimes she relived his death, sometimes they were about Pote, but lately her nightmares had been about losing James. And today as she watched him nearly lose his life from an explosion, she felt like she had been living one.
With war on the horizon and the winery no longer a safe place to stay, Taza had invited them to the reservation. The quietness and peace of the reservation was short lived. Within 24 hours, they had found themselves in a firefight with Pecas and his men. Trouble really did follow her wherever she went, but she had brought this trouble on herself, Pote, and James.
Many of the roads on the reservation were desolate, surrounded by fields of tall grass and weeds, providing little cover for them as they fought Pecas’ men. She and Pote had taken cover behind a car, James behind another, leaving him closer to the gun fire.
James had tried to find a better angle to shoot from. As he moved across the open road and towards another car, one closest to Pecas’ men, fear began spreading through her body like somehow she knew this wasn't going to end well. Suddenly, the car that he had been heading to for cover exploded right in front of him and her heart stopped. He was too close. The force of the explosion threw him backwards onto the pavement. He wasn't moving. No.
Teresa screamed his name as she ran towards him. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears and all she could think was James. James. James. Pote had tried to stop her, but she had wriggled free from his grasp.
The heat from the explosion got warmer the closer she got to James, but she didn't care. When she finally reached him, she kneeled down next to him, her knees hurting from the glass and shrapnel on the pavement. Her hands were shaking as she pulled on his arm in an attempt to turn him over, afraid of what she would find when she did.
Teresa turned him over so his head was resting in her lap, her hands frantically skimming over his cheeks, his neck, his shoulders, searching for injuries. When she reached his chest, her right hand comes away coated in blood and she heard a groan. Words began spilling out of her mouth in a panic, most of them just his name as she tries to stop the bleeding.
Getting James to the hospital was a blur. She remembers yelling for Pote to help them to the car, him laying across her lap in the back seat, speeding through the reservation as Teresa keeps pressure on the wound. It was too familiar to all those weeks ago when Guero died and she thought she was going to be sick. When they finally reach the hospital and the doctors take him away, she tries to keep herself together. Pote ushers her to a bathroom where she nearly scrubs her skin raw trying to get James’ blood off her hands before she finds herself in the corner of his hospital room.
As the doctor finishes up and leaves the room, Teresa walks closer to James, who is still sitting on the hospital bed, legs hanging over the side. “Are you alright?” She regrets the question as soon at it leaves her mouth. Of course he isn't, look at him.
James meets her eyes and nods, “I'll be fine.” Even though he is right in front of her, living and breathing and talking, she is still terrified she is going to lose him. Before Teresa even realizes what she is doing, she steps closer to him and presses her hand to the left side of his bare chest. And then she feels it, his heartbeat, strong and steady beneath her palm. Relief floods through her.
“You almost lost your life today because of me." Her throat feels tight with unshed tears. James is looking at her with soft eyes as he brings his hand up to cover hers on his chest. His touch lets her feel something besides pain and guilt; a sense of peace and hope. Why had she pushed him away for so long?
“I can’t lose you.” Her voice is so quiet and small that he almost misses what she said. She watches him through teary eyes as he takes in her words. His eyes meet hers and all she finds is wonder and warmth, almost as if he believes he still does not deserve this.
“Teresa, I'm not going anywhere. I chose this. I chose you.” James reassures her by gently squeezing her hand tighter with his, his eyes soft and earnest as he looks at her. She doesn't deserve forgiveness this easily for hurting him like she has, but here he is giving it to her and she didn't even ask for it. God, she had missed him.
She steps closer to him and uses her free hand to cup his face, his beard tickling her palm as her thumb brushes gently along his cheek. James eyes flutter closed with her touch and he looks more at peace than she had seen him in weeks. And in that moment, she decides that she is done pushing him away, especially when this man deserves all the love in the world.
Teresa presses a sweet, soft kiss to his lips, which he returns just the same. It reminds her of their first kiss they shared on that couch all those weeks ago. She had been happy and so full of hope that next morning. While she wasn't quite ready yet, she knew that James would help her get back there. They were in this together.