“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.