Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
And the boys can sense it.
“Mom!” Grant asks on a near shout, wriggling free of Chase’s arms just in time to bump into my dad as he walks into the room.
Maybe it’s because I’m so hurt, or maybe he’s tired from the travel, but Hank just lets him bounce off his body like a bumper car and keeps on moving, my mom trailing behind him.
Of course, Grant is undeterred and continues to me, jumping up to sit on the part of the bed beside my legs.
“Yeah, buddy?” I ask him, reaching out to pat his shoulder.
“Does your bagina hurt?”
What the—?
“Connor from school says girls have a bagina that hurts once a month,” he explains without prompting. “Is that why they’re keepin’ you here?”
Seth stops wrestling Chase to stand up straight and put his two cents into this insane conversation. “It’s va-gina, Grant. Jeez.”
“Now, now,” my mom interjects. “Mommy didn’t hurt her vagina, boys. She hurt—”
“Mom,” I interrupt, really not wanting to get into the details of my broken ribs, concussion, and torn rotator cuff again. It was upsetting enough the first time. Not to mention, I’d prefer not to speak about my vagina with my entire family in the room.
“Hank, Sue…why don’t you and I take the boys to get something to eat? We can give Sammy a little time to rest,” Chase offers quickly before turning to address Brooke and give Benji’s head a reassuring pat. “And how about you take a load off and elevate your feet for a bit, love? We’ll be back in a little while.”
I smile gratefully at my soon-to-be brother-in-law, exhaling a huge breath of comfort when the sound of my dad’s grumbling fades down the hall—and my mom and the boys disappear right with it.
And a few seconds after that, I let my head fall back on my pillow again, and then slowly, I let it fall to the side—staring again at that damned curtain.
“Sam,” Brooke calls on a whisper from my other side, reaching out to touch my hand gently when I don’t answer at first.
It feels so wrong, sitting here and having a conversation with my sister about some bullshit topic when I know an unconscious Noah and pregnant Ashley are on the other side. There’s a part of me that wants that stupid curtain out of the way, but I know it’s a necessity when Grant and Seth are here.
I should be the one at his side. Not her.
“I fucking hate this so much,” I whisper to myself, tears stinging my eyes.
“What?” Brooke asks.
“I said I hate this,” I reiterate, turning to face her and hissing my whisper. “Being this close to him and her and just watching and waiting. It’s some of the worst hell I’ve ever been through.”
Brooke winces visibly, and my hackles rise. “What? What is it?”
“Well…I kind of requested you be put in the same room,” she hedges ever so softly. “I thought… Well, I thought you needed to be together.”
“You requested this?!” I snap, the measure of my volume falling away completely. “You requested that your sister be put in a room with her over-lay and the oman-way he ocked-up-nay? Are you azy-cray?”
Brooke’s eyes bulge as her gaze jumps to the curtain, and a finger comes to her mouth. “Shh,” she suggests, picking up a pad and pen from the telephone table behind her.
She scribbles on the page frantically, and my rage grows with every stroke. Still, I wait to read her message like some kind of fool.
I didn’t know any of the backstory! When the hospital called, they just said you’d been hit by a cab and nothing else! I didn’t even know Noah was hurt too until we got here because we’re not his kin. Then SHE showed up, asking questions about you guys, and they didn’t want to tell her anything until she said she was his girlfriend.
I grab the pad and pen from her violently before writing my reply.
Yeah, well, thanks for making this a million times more awkward. We’d just told each other we loved each other, and then BAM. His EX-girlfriend was standing outside his door to tell Noah that she’s PREGNANT.
She steals the pen and paper back before I’m even done writing.
You told each other you loved each other?! OMG, Sammy, that’s amazing.
“Brooke,” I hiss. “Look around yourself right now and tell me again that any part of this is amazing. That woman over there is carrying Noah’s baby. His baby, Brooke. And let’s not forget about the most important detail here. He’s still unconscious!”
Truthfully, the only thing that’s preventing me from having a full-on breakdown is the fact that Kendall updated us this morning that Noah’s MRI and EEG showed normal brain function.
“How the hell is any of this supposed to work out now?” I question, shaking my head as I do. “And every time I look at her, Brooke, I hate her a little more. How terrible is that?”