Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 174544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
He whispers consoling phrases, “You’re okay. Just breathe with me.” His heartbeat is powerful and reassuring, the thuds comforting me in silent seconds.
I hang on to him like he’s a buoy in a turbulent ocean. “I need to know,” I say shakily. “I need to know, Farrow.”
He pulls back a little, his hands on my shoulders. He holds my gaze, and I search his eyes for the past. I can’t see anything beyond the present.
Then he says, “I married your brother.” He pauses. “But he’d tell you that he married me.”
Happiness is submerged beneath a swell of despair. “I wasn’t there.” I missed it.
“No, you were there,” Farrow says, getting choked up. He clears his throat, looks to the left, then back at me. “You were in my grooms’ party. You were in the procession walking ahead of me.”
I’m crying. “I don’t remember.”
He snatches a tissue box off the nearby tray table. “You’ve been through a lot—”
“That’s just it,” I cut him off. “I don’t even know what I’ve gone through. I don’t even know how much time I’ve actually lost.” I blow my runny nose in a tissue that he hands me. My eyes feel more tender and swollen. “I mean, you married my brother?” It seems unbelievable.
How could this amazing thing happen? How could I have forgotten?
“And-and,” I stammer, “you’re acting like my doctor, but you’re just a bodyguard. Your dad is my doctor.”
He shakes his head. “I’m your doctor, and I’m also Maximoff’s bodyguard.”
My jaw hits the floor. “You replaced Declan? Moffy would’ve hated that…” I trail off, not just because Farrow is starting to smile but because I remember my brother married him in the end.
“This all might come back to you soon,” Farrow reassures me. “Don’t get too hung up on it.” He can tell I’m overwhelmed.
I’ve just discovered I have multiple tattoos, a tongue piercing, and a brother-in-law. It’s the tip of a humongous iceberg, and to dive even deeper is a brain freeze I might not be ready for. But I don’t want to panic more and overly concern him and my family.
I wet my dry lips. “Can you just tell me how long I’ve been here? In the hospital?” How long have I been asleep? “Have I missed years?”
“No,” he says with certainty.
I inhale a stronger breath. “Months?”
“It’s barely been six hours,” Farrow says.
The accident happened recently then. Was it an accident? Did he say it was a car crash? I can’t remember…
“When can I see my mom and dad?” I ask him. “Where’s Moffy?”
He tells me he’s going to talk to them first. They’ll come in soon. Okay. I breathe fuller breaths. “Can…can I see my phone?” I mutter as he heads to the door.
He nods. “I’ll have a nurse bring in your personal items.” He takes a beat, sucking in a wince. “But I’d advise not looking at the internet. Can you do that?”
“Yeah,” I say, but I don’t even know if I’m lying to him or to myself.
He nods again, sweeps me from afar. I spot his concern, but I’m unsure if it’s normal doctorly concern or something more personal. I’m missing time, and in that time, did my relationship with Farrow change at all? Did we grow apart or closer?
It tries to unsettle me, so I focus more on the familiarity of him. “Thank you,” I whisper, resting back against the bed with a deep exhale.
“You need me, I’m one call button away.” He motions to the buttons on the bedframe, and I nod. Farrow gives me a warm consoling smile before leaving, but I wonder if he’s stepping out into the hallway with certain dread.
I wonder if he thinks I’m a lost cause.
I bite the edge of my fingernail. “Memories, don’t fail me,” I whisper to myself. I try so very hard to remember what happened to me.
Another flash.
Another picture frame.
Another glimpse.
Anything.
But it’s like grabbing air in a darkened room. There’s nothing to hold on to. Nothing to touch. Nothing to see.
It’s all just…
Gone.
25
PAUL DONNELLY
Oscar towers above me and tries to hand me a flimsy paper cup of water.
With my head in my hands, I’m sitting against the hard hallway wall outside the visitors’ room in Philly General. Glass doors to the ICU remain locked right now. No visitors allowed, and so everyone’s relegated to a morbid, stuffy room with blue chairs, a coffee bar, and a few tables. Haven’t been in there though.
For one, it seems like a morgue.
For another, it’s mostly full of Hales—plus, Lily’s sisters and their husbands. Everyone else is back at the Cobalt Estate with Jane and Thatcher, I’ve heard.
Don’t know where I should be, so I’ve just waited in the hall for better news. I shake my head at Oscar and rest my forearms on my knees. “I just want her to wake up,” I mutter. What if she never does? I’d lift the collar of my shirt to my burning eyes, but I’m not wearing one.