As the nurse poked a thermometer into my ear, I spotted Grace’s parents at the reception desk.
“Harper,” I said, nodding at them.
She went over to Grace’s mother, then gave her the clipboard, as if the responsibility for Grace’s welfare had been passed from me to them.
That was how it should be.
I had no business in Grace’s life. I’d taken things too far.
The electric doors opened for the first time since Grace had gone through them. I stood to speak to the person who walked through, but it was only a courier and of no use to me.
“Sit down, sir,” my nurse said, pushing me toward my seat and handing me a white plastic cup of water. “Take small sips.”
She shouldn’t be here, wasting her time on me when there was Grace to look after. “Can you see about Grace?”
“They’re still doing tests,” she said, resting her hand on my shoulder.
As she left, her parents approached me. What could I say to them? I’d failed to keep their daughter safe. “Are you okay?” her mother asked me.
“I’m sorry,” I stuttered.
Harper moved down a chair and Grace’s mother sat beside me and patted me on the knee. Her father paced in front of us.
“I should have stopped her.”
“It wasn’t your fault. Harper said a car ran into the side of the cab,” Grace’s mother said.
How did Harper know that? Had I told her?
I nodded. “She was getting out. I should have made her get out of my side.”
“Hush,” she said. “There’s nothing you could have done. Have they given you an exam? You should insist on a CT.”
“I’m fine. It’s Grace—”
“Shhh,” she said, “everything’s going to be okay.”
She spoke with authority and if I hadn’t understood what came with death, I would have believed her. Nothing was going to be okay if Grace didn’t make it.
Seconds, minutes, hours passed. I resisted every urge I had to burst through the doors and find Grace. What were they doing?
Finally, the doors slid open again and this time a nurse came out, clutching a clipboard. “Grace Astor,” she called out.
The four of us surrounded her, desperate for information. “Grace is doing well. She’s lost some blood but she’s conscious and asking for Sam.”
It was as if I hit the drop of a roller-coaster ride—fear and excitement tumbled about in my belly. “She’s alive?” I asked.
“She’s a little banged up, but fine,” the nurse said. “Her CT was clear.”
She was going to be okay.
“She’s bruised, and has a mild concussion. She’s broken her leg in two places.” I heard Grace’s mother cry out but I smiled. A broken leg? That was it? “They’ll reset the break this afternoon, then do the cast. We’ve given her something for the pain. She’s conscious and you can see her, but no more than two of you at a time. Sam, shall I take you through?” I should have been magnanimous and offered to let her parents go first, but I had to see Grace, to know for sure she was okay. I followed the nurse without looking back.
We passed down the first corridor and then turned into a bay of beds. I scanned the room, looking for Grace. The nurse led me to a curtained-off bed and for a split second, before she pulled back the partition, I imagined I’d find someone other than Grace in the bed. I couldn’t quite believe she was okay. They must have mistaken her for someone else.
I steeled myself as the curtain went back, but almost threw up again when I saw that it was her. Her eyelids fluttered and, finally, Grace opened her eyes and looked at me. “Sam,” she said, her voice croaky.
I rushed forward, then stopped. I wanted to pull her toward me, but I was almost too scared to touch her. I stepped forward and she lifted her hand. I glanced back at the nurse.
“She’s fine,” the nurse assured me.
I slipped my palm under hers and kissed her on her forehead. As I pulled back, she winced. “I’m so sorry, Grace.” For the kiss, for the accident. I wanted to take away her pain.
She gave me a small smile. “I love you.”
Just a few hours earlier, those words had sent my soul soaring. Now they felt inappropriate. She shouldn’t love me, because I couldn’t love her. It wasn’t how it was meant to be.
I pulled a chair up so I could sit beside her. I needed to study her beautiful face, remember how warm her hands were, memorize her smell.
But I couldn’t protect Grace, and I had to protect myself.
For a moment, I’d allowed myself to love her, thought it possible for me to be loved. I should have known better. I wasn’t strong enough.
I had to walk away.
Chapter Twenty
Grace
I looked down the bed, amused by the different sizes of my legs. I remembered being told my leg would be reset, and then nothing after that until I came around in a different room.
I’d never broken a bone before.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” my mother asked, holding out a cup of water.
I shook my head. “I’m fine. Where’s Sam?”
My mother glanced at my father on the other side of the bed. He patted my hand. “Just relax.”
“I’m perfectly relaxed. The drugs are taking care of that. Where’s Sam?”
“I don’t know, honey,” my mother said.
He was here; I remembered from before they reset my leg. “Harper?” I asked. “Is he hurt?” She was sitting on a chair by the window, playing with her phone.
She looked up at me and put her cell down. “No. Not at all. I think he went to collect something. I’m not sure. I’ll try to call him.” She stood up and left the room.
Where would he be? The Sam Shaw I knew would want to be right by my side when I woke.
“How are you feeling, darling?” my mother asked me.
“I’m fine, Mom.”
“You’re not fine. We were very worried.”
“I was lucky,” I said. When I was coming back from the anesthetic, I’d heard Harper say that if the car had stopped a few inches later, things would have been much worse.
But it hadn’t and they weren’t.
I had a broken leg that would heal.
The only thing wrong was the fact Sam wasn’t with me.
“Can someone give me my phone?” I asked, trying to move to sit myself up.
“Stay still,” my mom said. “I don’t know where it is. Harper’s gone to call him. You need to concentrate on getting better.”
No one was listening to me. I wanted Sam. “Will they let me go home tonight?” I didn’t like the thought of staying here overnight. Sam and I were supposed to be spending tonight in his apartment. The bed was arriving. Shit. The bed. Had Sam gone to take delivery? Surely he wouldn’t leave me like that. Where was he?
“I don’t think so. They want to keep you here for observation.”
“The nurse said they did a CT scan, so what’s the problem?”
Harper walked back into the room, her eyes glued to the floor.
“Did you speak to him? Where is he?” I asked.
She glanced at my parents and then back at me. Whatever it was that she had to say, she didn’t want to say it in front of my mom and dad.
“Dad, would you mind getting me a magazine or a book or something for me to read when you’re gone?”
“Of course, honey. Your mother and I will go do that now.”