[22] Whiskey

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Warm my body to the core just like a blanket.

His face was so sweet then he took my breath away.

Hit me so hard like a rock through a window.

I knew I was in trouble from the moment I met you, boy.

Shoulda just called it like I saw it.

Shoulda just called for help and ran like hell that day.

The burning, the stinging, the high and the heat and the "left-me-wanting-more" feeling when he kissed me.

I shoulda just called him "Whiskey"

Jana Kramer ~Whiskey


Zach remains in the hospital for the next few days

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Zach remains in the hospital for the next few days.

On the fourth day, he's discharged with his arm in a cast and a small bandage on his forehead. I help him with his seatbelt before getting into the drivers seat and pulling out of the parking lot.

"Okay if we make a quick stop?" Zach asks, and I nod. "I need to talk to Patrick."

This shocks me momentarily, but I turn the next corner towards the cemetery. The drive is silent, the weight of Zach's request hanging heavily in the air.

As we approach the cemetery gates, I glance at Zach. His face is stoic, but there's a softness in his eyes that tells me this is something he needs to do.

We park the car, and I help Zach out, steadying him as we walk towards Jenna and Patrick's graves. The cemetery is quiet, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of the nearby trees. We find their graves, and Zach stands there for a moment, taking a deep breath.

"I'll give you a moment," I say, squeezing his good hand before stepping forward, kissing the headstones and then walking to sit a bit farther away.

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