Текст книги "Sweet Nothing"

Автор книги: Teresa Mummert

Соавторы: Jamie McGuire
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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

“I know you said you’d take her shift, but she hasn’t come home. Where else could she be?”

“I haven’t seen her all night,” Michaels assured me. I muttered a thank-you and hung up my phone, my mind reeling with worry.

I quickly dialed Quinn, pacing the floor as it rang three excruciatingly long times.

“Are you guys fighting again?”

“Quinn, Christ, Avery left for a drive to clear her head and she hasn’t come back. It’s been four hours and she won’t answer her phone.”

“Calm down. I’m sure she’s just driving around and lost track of time.”

“You saw how she was. What if she got a flat tire and her cell is dead? What if she got in an accident?”

“Did you call the hospital?”

“Yeah.” I chewed on my thumb, continuing to pace. “Michaels took her shift, and she would have told me if Avery got brought in.”

“What about the police?” His voice was more cautious.

“And tell them I got in a fight with my wife and now she won’t come back to me? They’ll laugh in my face.”

“Tell them …” His voice lowered. “Tell them about her mental state. Tell them you have reason to be concerned for her safety.”

I sank down on the couch, my head resting in my palm. “She’s not that bad,” I lied to myself.

“You can’t protect her if you continue lying for her, Josh. It may upset her, but it is what’s best.”

I nodded even though he couldn’t see me, and swallowed against the lump in my throat.

“You have to do this, Josh. It’s what’s best for Penny.”

“I know,” I whispered. I lowered the phone from my ear, hitting the END button with tears in my eyes. Everything was falling apart so quickly.

Avery would never forgive me for this, but I had to choose between her safety and our marriage, and her safety had to come first.

My fingers shook as I dialed the emergency number, pacing the floor once more. Explaining the situation to the operator, I prayed I was overreacting and Avery would walk through the door. As we spoke, my phone beeped, and I pulled it from my ear to see Avery’s name and a picture of her face splash across the screen.

“I have to go. It’s my wife,” I huffed out in a panic and switched the call. Avery’s voice sounded distant and muffled as if she’d called me by accident, and I couldn’t make out what she was saying.

“Avery? Can you hear me? Where are you?”

“What happened?” she asked.

Another voice responded but faded in and out. “You pulled out into the intersection in front of a semi.” The call broke up. “The cars were a mangled mess.”

“Avery? Baby? I’m coming. I’ll be right there.” My body was on autopilot while I hurried around the apartment, grabbing my shoes and slipping them on before hurrying down the stairs and out the front door.

“You have to tell them. I’m not crazy!” Her voice was panicked and I felt helpless not being by her side.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m on my way. I won’t let anything happen to you,” I reassured her, pressing the start button on the Durango.

“What happened to Penny?”

“Who’s Penny?” the other voice asked.

“Our baby. Josh’s and mine. I was thirty-one weeks pregnant, Deb. Did I lose her? Did they take her away?”

“Avery? Answer me. Did you say Penny?” I mumbled, tears now blurring the road ahead.

“Avery? Can you hear me? I’m coming!” My stomach twisted again. She was with Deb, but where? I slammed on the brakes as the light on the desolate road turned red. My fingers readjusted their grip on the steering wheel while I waited for it to switch back to green. She had to be at the hospital.

“Stop it!” she said. Her voice was panicked, and I was praying I’d get to hold her in my arms soon. “You’re lying!”

When the light changed, I stepped on the gas. Rain began to fall in a fine mist. With little traffic on the road, I was able to speed through the hills.

“Tell them. I’m so afraid,” she cried.

“Don’t be scared, baby,” I yelled out as I pushed down the gas pedal. “I’m coming. I swear I am coming to get you!”

“Josh! Josh!”

The line went dead, and I clutched the phone in my palm, praying she would call me back.

Just a few minutes later, I was pulling into the emergency room, parking my SUV near the ambulance bay. I rushed through the doors, barely able to catch my breath.

The lobby was filled with old men and sick children, but I didn’t see my wife. “Avery?” I choked out.

The receptionist waved to me from behind her desk. “Josh? Everything okay?”

“Angie,” I said, relieved to see a familiar face. “Avery called me. I think she’s here. I think she’s hurt. Is she here?”

“Take a breath, Josh,” Angie said. Her voice was too calm, only making me more afraid.

“Josh!” I spun around to see Ashton holding a clipboard in her hand. “I was just about to call you. Avery’s here.”

“Is she all right? What happened?”

“She took a turn too fast and rolled her car. She was wearing a seat belt, but …”

I only waited a couple of seconds for her to find the words. I didn’t care about tact; I wanted to know if my wife was okay. “But what? Ashton, fucking tell me!”

“She’s stable. Dr. Weaver just left, but she’ll be back. Dr. Rosenberg has ordered her something for the pain.

“What about Penny?”

“Who?”

“The baby,” I snapped. I followed her through a double set of doors to the exam room hallway.

“I’m so sorry, Josh.” Ashton stopped, turning to me. “We did the best we could.”

I nodded, my knees threatening to give out under the weight of the sadness. We did the best we could. The words played on an endless loop in my mind. Did we? Was there more we could have done? I should have stopped her from walking out on me. I should have listened when she told me she was upset instead of dismissing her as irrational. My life with Avery was everything I’d ever dreamed of, and I had let it slip through my fingers.

My feet stopped shuffling, and I realized Ashton had guided me to one of the doors that lined the hallway, each hiding a tragedy behind it.

“It’s going to be all right,” Ashton reassured me.

I nodded, knowing it was a lie. I’d uttered that phrase to so many fathers and husbands. They were just words staff felt compelled to say to relieve our own guilt. It wasn’t easy to feel helpless when helping was the primary function of our jobs. If we couldn’t help, what good were we?

I pushed open the door to where Ashton had led me. Words wouldn’t change the outcome.

Avery lay on the bed looking as if she’d fallen asleep. Her blonde hair splayed against the white pillow, a purplish bruising marring her skin just below her hairline.

Monitors beeped around me in a steady rhythm as I wrapped my hand around hers, squeezing her fingers gently as if she were so fragile, she would crumble and slip from my grasp. The first of many sobs racked through my body as I let my tears fall onto the white blanket covering her.

“I should have never let you leave.”

I pressed my lips to the back of her hand before holding her soft skin against my cheek, letting my eyes fall closed so I could picture her smiling on our wedding day.

“I hate seeing you like this. I hate seeing you in pain. I’m going to add it to the list, okay?” I attempted a smile, feeling as broken as the rest of me. I combed away a few wayward hairs from her face.

My life with Avery had slipped from a dream into a frightening nightmare, one from which we couldn’t wake up. It was as if we were in limbo, suspended in purgatory. Her eyes moved behind fluttering lashes that never batted open. Her heart rate spiked at whispered I love yous, but never jolted her from her deep slumber. I couldn’t let go of us. I refused to walk away.

I went to her every day and waited. Waited for the impossible, for a sign, for her to look at me … hoping sinners were granted miracles, too.

My eyes felt puffy and raw as I stared out the window. My lunch sat on the table uneaten, and Deb sat in her chair, pretending to read a magazine.

After a knock on the door, two women in white lab coats walked in, attended by a skinny male nurse.

Deb stood. “Avery, these are the doctors I told you about.” She pointed at a brunette with shoulder-length, kinky hair. Her full lips were glossed with a nude shade, complementing her dark, warm skin. “This is your neurologist, Dr. Livingston.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said.

Deb gestured to a short, squat woman with warm hazel eyes and silver hair. “This is Dr. Brock.”

Dr. Brock was the first to speak, her smile lighting the room. “I’m so happy to meet you, Avery. I’m sure your situation has been very upsetting, but if you don’t mind taking the time to explain, we’re hoping maybe we can help.”

“You can’t help me,” I said, sullen.

Dr. Livingston stepped forward. “We’d like to try.”

Deb checked my monitors and then nodded to me once.

“Yes,” I said to her, waving her away. “You’ve been here for hours. Go find Quinn.” As soon as I spoke the words, I bit my lip.

Both doctors looked over at my monitors and traded glances.

“I mean,” I said, trying not to cry, “take a break.”

“Who is Quinn?” Dr. Brock asked.

I shook my head, unable to answer.

Deb returned to my side, holding my hand. “Quinn was Josh Avery’s partner before the accident. She remembers Quinn and me having a relationship.”

“Have you?” Dr. Livingston asked.

Deb shook her head and spoke quietly. “No. Never.”

Something about being in a hospital made anything personal impersonal. Bad breath, sexual partners, foot fungus, vaginal odor, gastrointestinal noises, even past relationships and bad habits were no longer private, they were health history. In a hospital, doctors were priests, and anything less than cleansing your soul was an act of aggression against your wellbeing. Or, in this case, Deb must have felt she would be acting against mine.

Dr. Livingston gestured to her nurse. He left for a moment and then returned with two chairs. The doctors took a seat at the end of my bed.

“It would be interesting to ask her questions during a MEG,” Dr. Livingston said.

Dr. Brock nodded, still staring at me with that deceivingly warm smile. “And your memories of Josh span back nearly two years?”

“Yes,” I said, feeling more like an experiment than a patient.

Dr. Brock was trying hard to seem interested in helping me, but I could see them planning their articles in The New England Journal of Medicine. I had been guilty of the same excitement and curiosity the doctors had in their eyes. We were healthcare professionals, and day in and day out, we saw many of the same ailments. Seeing something atypical was exhilarating. That interest didn’t mean I couldn’t empathize, but it was a struggle to balance one against the other—a struggle the doctors were losing.

Dr. Brock crossed her legs and settled into her chair, readying her pen and notebook. “How did it make you feel when you saw Josh?”

I pointed to her paper. “I haven’t agreed to a session. I’m not comfortable with notes.”

“I understand,” Dr. Brock said. “I can easily dispose of any notes at the end if you decide you don’t wish to continue.”

Deb glanced at me.

“But,” Dr. Brock said, “this has clearly been traumatic for you. It would be overwhelming to try to process this loss of time and mourn Josh and the life you led while unconscious and still navigate today, or tomorrow, or the next day. Have you thought about what you’ll do when you leave the hospital?”

“She has a week of physical therapy,” Deb said. “They’re moving her to rehab tomorrow.”

“And after that?” Dr. Livingston prompted.

“I … I don’t know. Josh was living with me in my apartment. I’m not even sure I still have my apartment.”

“You do,” Deb said, squeezing my hand.

“Tell me more about your memories,” Dr. Livingston said, “and the physiology that accompanies them.”

I frowned.

Dr. Brock stiffened. “Dr. Livingston, if you don’t mind, I think we should concentrate on Avery’s emotional state for the first session.”

“Or not mix two completely separate health fields,” Deb grumbled. “What was Dr. Weaver thinking?”

“Excuse me?” Dr. Livingston snapped.

“This is a train wreck,” Deb said. She looked at me. “You both approached Dr. Weaver, didn’t you?”

Dr. Brock breathed out a small laugh. “Hamata, Avery’s recovery will happen in many different facets. We just want to help her readjust to reality.”

“I’m very interested in—” Dr. Livingston began, looking to Dr. Brock instead of me.

Deb held up one hand. “We know you’re very interested. We think you should both leave, and come back when you can stop talking like Avery isn’t in the room.”

The male nurse smiled.

“Hamata,” Livingston began.

Deb walked over to the door, opened it, and smiled politely. The doctors traded glances and then stood, nodding to me. The nurse picked up the chairs and did the same.

“Feel better, Jacobs,” he said.

“Thank you.”

Deb began to shut the door behind the doctors, but a nurse pushed through, rushing around the room, checking monitors, pulling the EKG strip, and writing in my chart.

“Look, Jacobs. It’s the new girl,” Deb said.

“Hi,” the nurse said back, barely looking up. Her voice instantly made me angry, but I had no idea why.

“New?” I asked.

“I started in the ER just before your accident,” the nurse said. “Do you remember me?”

The tawny beauty reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t quite place her. I didn’t remember knowing her at all from the hospital. Something told me she was bad news.

“No,” I said simply. I wanted her to leave. Her presence made me want to throw things.

“You look tired, Parsons,” Deb said.

“Yes, I’m swamped. Michaels called in. Pretty sure there’s a Bruno Mars concert tonight.”

Deb chuckled, but I narrowed my eyes.

Parsons smiled at me. “Sorry for not introducing myself first. I assumed because we’ve met before … but I shouldn’t have. I’m Hope Parsons. I actually just moved into your building a few weeks ago.” She leaned over and offered her hand to me.

I didn’t take it.

Parsons stood, slow and awkward. “Um … okay, it was nice to meet you again. I have to get back to Josh’s room.”

“I bet you do,” I murmured.

She glanced at me and then spoke to Deb. “I’m assisting Dr. Weaver with a procedure.”

“On Josh?” I asked.

Parson’s eyes grew large. “I shouldn’t have said that. I can’t discuss his care with—”

“You can discuss it with me,” Deb said. “I’ll be his nurse tomorrow.”

Parsons shook her head. “I can’t, Hamata. Not in front of Avery. I need this job.”

I sat up. “Why? Because you’re a single mom?”

Parsons hesitated. “Yes. Why?”

“When did you move into my building?”

Parsons was confused, but I could see she was counting in her head. “A few weeks after your accident.”

“Have I met your son?” I asked.

“No.”

I bit my lip. I was either going to be crazy for being right, or being wrong. “Is his name Toby?”

Parsons offered a cautious smile. “Yes? I must have been talking about him when I came in to check on you. We’ve had a few one-sided conversations,” she said, her cheeks pink. She scribbled a few more things on my chart and then hooked it to the end of the bed. “I really have to go. Glad you’re okay, Jacobs.”

She hurried out, and Deb frowned at me. “What was that about?”

“You don’t think it’s weird that I know her son’s name? That I even know she has a son?”

Deb shrugged. “She admitted to talking about him. You know loved ones are encouraged to speak to patients in comas. You heard her. That’s all.”

“Call Quinn,” I said.

Deb winced. “I’m not calling Quinn. He’s had a rough time, and …”

“Deb, are you my friend?”

“Yes, but …”

“Then call him. Tell him I want to see him. I have questions.”

She stood, gathering her things. “Fine.” She pointed at me. “But if you don’t stop, one of those doctors is going to commit you just so they can do whatever tests they want. Be careful.”

I smiled at her, watching her leave. “Thank you.”

“To be honest,” she said, pausing at the door. “I hope you’re right. Quinn is hot, and I wouldn’t mind getting pummeled by him every night.”

“In a better life, he’s in love with you.”

Her grin was half sad, half hopeful. “Maybe they’ll let me live there with you.”

It had finally happened. Brooke had called me a selfish bastard. Years later, Avery had called me one, too. Hope was likely thinking it. They were all right. I was like poison, yet I had pursued Avery anyway.

I’d hoped if I did it the right way, if I was honest and treated her with respect, treated our relationship with respect, that maybe whoever had cursed me would give me a second chance.

I looked down at Avery, surrounded by machines, tubes, and steady, irritating noises that meant she was alive, but she was too far away for me to reach. I took her frail hands in mine, unsure if she would take me back when she woke. If she woke.

The door creaked as it opened behind me and footsteps sounded. It wasn’t the sound of a nurse’s sneakers, but Quinn’s heavy boots.

“How’s it going, partner?”

I sighed. “Still no change.”

“You want me to wait with her? Get yourself a decent dinner.”

“No.”

“Breathe some fresh air. Take a shower.”

“No.”

“Josh, you need to—”

“What if she wakes up for two seconds and I’m not here?” I snapped.

“What if she wakes up for two seconds and you smell like old salami? She’ll go back to sleep just so the smell will go away.”

I shook my head, my eyes feeling raw and heavy. “I can’t leave her, Quinn. I can’t …” My head fell, and my breath caught. I gripped the blanket, my knuckles turning white.

Quinn gripped my shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine what you’re going through. But she’s going to need you to take care of her when she wakes up.” He exhaled. “You can’t take care of her like this, man. You need rest.”

I took Avery’s hand in mine and kissed her fingers, closing my eyes. “Okay,” I said, standing. “You won’t leave her?”

Quinn sat in my seat and held her hand. “Not even for a second. Not even to go to the bathroom. I’m right here until you’re back. Don’t forget to shave and brush your teeth. Seriously. This is the grossest I’ve ever seen you.”

I nodded, trying to laugh at his joke. If Avery didn’t wake up, I wasn’t sure I’d ever laugh again.

I picked at my fingernails, nervous about seeing Quinn. The last time I’d seen him wasn’t the last time he’d seen me, and I wasn’t sure how to greet him. It was confusing trying to decide how well we knew each other.

I thought back to my time in the ER before the crash. Quinn and I had traded a few smart-ass remarks. He’d flirted with me a handful of times until he’d partnered up with Josh. After that, he didn’t speak to me as much. I had to treat him as if we barely knew each other, and that was going to be difficult. Quinn was practically family.

A quiet knock sounded on the door. Deb walked in first, followed by Quinn. He looked nervous, too, and strangely, that made me feel more relaxed.

“Hi,” I said simply.

“Hi, Jacobs,” Quinn said, his voice sad.

“You can call me Avery,” I said.

He was wearing his paramedic uniform, the navy-blue T-shirt and matching cargo pants with boots. I wanted to reach out and hug him, if just to feel that fabric against my skin again, but I continued picking at my nails.

Quinn’s knee bobbed up and down, and he cleared his throat. “I was glad to hear you woke up. Gives me hope for Josh.”

“He’ll wake up,” I said, unsure where the confidence came from.

One corner of Quinn’s mouth twitched. “I heard you had quite the dream.”

“Weird news travels fast.”

“Josh would love to hear that. He was into you. He talked about you a lot before …” Quinn sighed. “I knew he liked you, but … when I rolled up on that wreck—” he shook his head and lifted his hands, pressing against an invisible ball of metal “—your driver’s side hit his driver’s side, and your open windows were welded together. The damnedest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I shouldn’t have pulled out before looking. That was stupid,” I said.

Quinn switched between expressions, unsure of which to use. “He called me from the scene. He sounded confused and out of breath. The last thing I heard him say was get her, and help Jacobs.”

“He called you? From the scene?”

Quinn nodded. “I called nine-one-one, but I got there a few minutes before they did. I was still at the hospital, trying to score a date with Nikki Liberty.”

I smiled. “She’s pretty.”

Quinn frowned. “When I pulled up, I ran up and had to look through your back window to see you both. His arms were around you, Avery. He held you until he was unconscious. I still can’t figure out how your Prius was thrown back into his car—on that side—in that way. It doesn’t seem physically possible.”

My eyes burned, and I nodded. None of what happened was possible, yet it had happened. All of it.

“So, I think it’s nice that you dreamed of him. I don’t think it’s weird at all. Matter of fact, I bet he’s dreaming of you, too.”

I blinked, letting tears fall for only a second before wiping them quickly away. “Have you heard any news? They won’t tell me anything.”

Quinn sighed. “His dad wanted to try to take him off the ventilator today. He has brain function, but he didn’t do well off the machine. They’re considering how much longer to keep him going.”

“They’re going to pull the plug?” I asked, sitting up.

“They don’t have a lot of money, Avery. Josh had minimal insurance. They’ll keep him alive as long as they can. I know. It makes me furious. The guys have started a fundraiser.”

I bit my lip. Desperate times … “Quinn? Mind if I ask you something incredibly weird?”

“Sure,” he said, amused through his sadness.

“Is your last name Cipriani?”

He nodded.

I looked at Deb. She shrugged. “You could have heard that or seen that, Avery. You know I want to believe you, but that doesn’t prove anything.”

“Doesn’t prove what?” Quinn asked.

“Does your mom make really, really great pie?”

Quinn stiffened, hesitating before he spoke. “She’s Italian. Everything she makes is amazing. Josh loved her pies.”

I breathed out, smiling.

“Avery,” Deb warned.

Quinn narrowed one eye. “What are you trying to say, Avery?”

“It wasn’t a dream, Quinn. I need you to believe me.”

Deb walked over to the opposite side of the bed and touched my shoulder. “Quinn, Avery’s very tired. Maybe you should head out.”

I pushed her hand away. “I can describe your mom’s apartment. I can describe the way her pies taste. I can tell you about Josh’s parents.”

Quinn stood, staring at me as if I were suddenly dangerous. “I don’t know what you’re doing, Avery, but it ain’t right.”

“I know what you’re thinking. I’m not a crazy stalker, Quinn. I’m married to Josh. We spent time together, a lot of time together, and I have memories of things I couldn’t possibly have memories of. It wasn’t a dream. It was another life, and I want to go back.”

“I’m sorry, Avery. You haven’t been to my mom’s house.”

“House?” I asked, swallowing.

“Avery, stop,” Deb begged.

“What do you want me say?” he asked.

“I want you tell Dr. Weaver that you believe me. I want you to convince her to put me back under.”

“Avery!” Deb said.

I looked down, resolute. “Medically induced comas are done all the time. You can sell all of my things and put me in a nursing home.”

“Avery, enough,” Deb said, getting angry.

“He’s probably worried sick about me!” I yelled. “I have to get back to him somehow!”

Quinn took a few steps back, and Parsons rushed in. “Is everything okay in here?”

I looked at Quinn. “You were in love with Deb. You were so happy, Quinn. You were going to ask her to marry you.”

Deb’s face flushed bright red, and she gestured for Parsons to escort Quinn out of the room.

Quinn complied, turning around to look at me once before Parsons closed the door behind them.

Deb shook her head. “Why didn’t you tell me this was your plan? I do a favor for you, and you lie to me?”

“I’m sorry.” I wiped my cheek. “I just have a few days left, and I don’t know how much longer they’ll leave Josh on the ventilator. It was a last-minute decision.”

Deb sat, digging her elbow into my mattress and resting her head in her hand. “Tell me more.”

I sniffed. “Really?”

She nodded, sincere.

“We’d just finished hanging the last painting on the wall of the apartment.”

“Really? I thought you didn’t like to put holes in the walls.”

“Because it didn’t feel like mine. Josh didn’t understand why it made me so happy to watch him hammer holes into the paint.” My breath caught. “Because it was ours. We’d made it into a home.”

Deb nodded, resting her chin in her hand.

“Josh had just finished setting up the crib. He wanted to decorate her nursery in fire and rescue stuff.” I made a face. “So we compromised. Pink and gray firetrucks and ambulances.” I touched my flat stomach. “He was such a proud father. Now he’ll never be able to hold her. I’ll never be able to hold her. I might never be able to hold him.”

“You really love him that much? You’d go back into a coma?”

“This isn’t my life, Deb. I know it sounds absolutely insane.”

“I believe you.”

“You do?”

She nodded. “But you can’t go back. We’ll just have to make sure Josh wakes up.”

“How?” I asked.

She shook her head, her hand pressing against her cheek. “I’ll take you there every day after PT. You talked him into marrying you once. Talk him into waking up.”

It had been ten days since I awoke from what I had thought was my life. Physical therapy was grueling. Even after just seven weeks, lying in bed motionless had made my muscles weak and scrawny, but I was determined to make progress. Every day, my body grew stronger, and even though I aspired to walk out of the hospital with my husband, my will to move forward diminished. My heart was broken. The love I’d felt had been very real.

Deb wheeled me into Josh’s room every day after PT. His body still lay unmoving, a shell of his former self. It was painful to see him so gaunt and weak, but I spoke to him for hours, telling him about our other life, and how we could have it again if he’d only wake up. I held his hand, knowing full well the rumors floating around the hospital, but Dr. Weaver had ordered another round of tests, seeing some change in Josh’s brain activity when I was in the room.

“I will be so glad to be able to take you home and feed you a decent meal.” Aunt Ellen slipped her hand over mine and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You are getting so thin.”

I smiled at her, hoping it looked convincing. I was grateful for her help, and I knew she had spent her savings to be by my side.

“I’d like to see Josh again. Could you tell Deb when she gets back?”

“You’ve spent two hours with him today, sweetheart.”

I tried to hold my smile, feeling I may come undone along my tattered edges if I didn’t get to see his face. The uncertainty in her eyes was obvious.

“I’m getting discharged tomorrow. It’s my last day.”

“So come back when you start your shift,” Aunt Ellen said, tucking my hair behind my ear.

“I won’t be cleared to work for a while. I don’t have a car. I don’t know when I can come back.”

“You’ll find a way.”

Like everyone else, Aunt Ellen didn’t understand. She was hoping I would forget my other life. She thought if I had enough time and space away from him, my love for him and my memories of our marriage would fade away. It wouldn’t.

“I should go now, before lunch,” I said, knowing I was pushing my luck. Aunt Ellen had no doubt heard the whispers around the hospital. “This whole thing is my fault,” I explained. “It only feels right that I offer him some company.”

She reluctantly held out her hand, but I waved it away, pushing myself to my feet. My body was stiff and ached from physical therapy, but nothing compared to the crippling pain in my heart.

My eyes teared as I gripped the handle of the muted silver cane that helped me to keep my balance. Every step was a struggle, but I made my way out of the room and down the hall. Physical therapy was difficult, but it was a relief not to have to depend on anyone else to take me to see Josh.

My chest heaved as I paused in front of Josh’s door to rest.

Quinn stepped out into the hall, pulling the door closed behind him.

“Any change?” I asked, hopeful.

Quinn’s head shook infinitesimally. “Nothing. Not a goddamn thing except for your visits. The second you leave, his brain activity slips right back.”

I looked down at the ridiculous slippers Deb had brought me. Pink bunny heads shook above my toes. “He will,” I choked out before sliding my hand over my cheek to wipe away a stray tear.

“Avery, I should probably tell you something. His dad got in last night.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “He’s decided to…” He took a step forward, pausing when my aunt touched my shoulder.

“Hi, Quinn. Nice to see you again,” Aunt Ellen said.

“Mrs. Collins,” Quinn said, nodding.

“Avery is being discharged in the morning. She’d like to say good-bye to Josh.”

“Not good-bye,” I said.

“Good-bye for now,” Aunt Ellen qualified.

Quinn glanced at her face before swallowing whatever information he was about to offer. “Good luck with your recovery, Avery. I hope to see you back at the hospital very soon.” He turned in the opposite direction, hurrying through the double doors.

Forcing myself to continue, I pressed my palm against Josh’s door, saying a silent prayer before pushing it open. A man was hunched over, sitting in the chair next to Josh’s bed. His head snapped up at the sound of my cane on the floor. When he turned, I saw the essence of a man I’d come to love in my other life.

“Hello, Mr. Avery. I’m Avery … Jacobs,” I stammered, the name sounding foreign.

He pushed from his seat and rounded the foot of the bed, holding out his arms. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I’m glad …” His voice caught in his throat as he struggled to contain his emotions. He pulled me in, and I let him, finally feeling something familiar.

“I am so sorry,” I whispered as Mr. Avery pulled me against his chest.

He looked a little different from what I remembered, but the scent of motor oil and grease was the same. A few sniffles turned into tears, and soon, his body was shaking around me. I pressed the palm of my free hand against his back and let my eyes close, struggling to keep us both from crumbling into a heap of despair.

We broke apart as Dr. Rosenberg knocked on the open door and stepped inside. He smiled at me, looking tan and rested. “Hi, Avery. Your aunt told me you would be in here. I’m sorry I haven’t been in sooner. I took the family to Fiji for vacation.”

“It’s’ fine,” I said, trying not to recoil.