Chapter Thirty-Four - Thalia
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Thalia
I’M LIVID.
I want to see my brother but the doctors don’t think it’s a good idea—some bullshit about how I need my rest. I kept my shit together with Bash while I was in the hospital because I could tell that’s what he needed, but I really just want to see my brother.
So instead of being at the hospital with Owen, I’m at home worried out of my mind. How bad could he be hurt if he’s still there? The gallery is closed for the time being until I’m back on my feet, and Penelope is watching over me like a hawk whenever Sebastian is at the hospital or practice.
I literally can’t even pee in privacy without one of them feeling the need to walk me to the bathroom. I broke my left arm, not my right arm. I’m capable of wiping myself.
Because of my concussion, I’m not allowed to do anything more than flip through old photo albums. No television, no light, no going to the hospital, no phone. It’s kind of all ridiculous and it’s driving me crazy. I can’t even work on editing the photos I took for the magazine because everything I currently have is digital. So no work either .
The break in my arm happened when I fell, and was too high up for them to put a cast on it. So I’m stuck in a sling for four weeks. It isn’t any fun, but it’s better than the alternative. I could be in the hospital still with Owen.
I’m currently curled up in bed with my arm positioned on top of a pillow for support. I don’t really feel like doing much of anything right now.
There’s a knock at my door, and I don’t bother responding because it’s either Sebastian or Penelope. They’re going to come in regardless of whether I want them to or not. I realize how that sounds, and I do want them here. I’m just angry.
“Lia, they warned me you looked like shit, but damn…I didn’t realize it was this bad.”
I sit up quicker than I should have, causing the hammer in my head to resume pounding, and the throbbing in my arm increases from the sudden movement. “Chris?”
He steps in, leaving the door cracked behind him. “Hey. Bash called me earlier, and mentioned you could use some cheering up. Looks like he was right. When’s the last time you showered?”
Ouch, but he’s not wrong. It’s hard to shower with only one hand, while making sure I don’t get the stitches on my face wet. “I thought you were in Florida? It’s Allie’s week to have Henry; you should be there.” Chris had flown to Florida the same morning I flew back from Vermont.
“That was a week ago. I got back late last night with Henry.”
What? It wasn’t a week ago? It’s only been, like, three days?
He must understand my confusion, and Chris sits on the corner of my bed. “Thalia? Are you okay? ”
I wipe my hand over my face, trying to make sense of how many days it’s been since I was discharged. I could have sworn it was only a few. “I’m good. I’m just…”
“Confused,” Chris answers for me, smiling reassuringly.
“Yeah, confused. Sorry, I thought it was Thursday.” It’s a little scary hearing how off my timing was. How have I lost five days? It doesn’t make sense.
“It’s Tuesday.”
I force a smile and nod. “I knew that. They all end in day so it’s easy to get them confused.”
“It’s okay; you don’t need to explain. We’ve all gotten our days mixed up. What have you been up to?” he asks, and I might be concussed, but I can still tell that this is awkward. The last time we spoke was when Chris told me that he needed me to take a step back from Henry because of Allie.
I use one hand to motion at the dim room we’re sitting in. “ This . This is what I’ve been doing, and while I appreciate you stopping by, I know my relationship with Bash isn’t good for you to be associating with me during the divorce, so don’t feel like you need to stay.”
He at least has the nerve to look embarrassed, which makes me feel slightly better. “Lia, I was upset about Allie when I told you that. I’m sorry for taking it out on you.”
“You really hurt my feelings,” I admit, remembering how awful it was to hear him say that as long as I was with Sebastian, I couldn’t be around Henry until the divorce was finalized.
Chris scratches the back of his neck, unable to meet my gaze. “I know. I’m not proud of it. Actually, I’ve felt really shitty about it. You’ve done nothing but help me since everything started to go down, even with everything going on in your life. I was scared of losing Henry when Allie threatened me, and I let fear control my emotions. He’s my kid, Lia.”
I know they’re not related to me, but I love Henry and Chris like they are. Chris is like another older brother to me, and we definitely fight like it sometimes too—actually, more than sometimes.
“I spent most of the week on the phone with Sebastian getting updates on you and Owen. I wanted to fly back early, but I didn’t feel comfortable leaving Henry alone with Allie. Bash has a plan, though, I’m willing to try, but right now, all I want to know is how you’re feeling?” he asks again, and if it wasn’t something I’d been asked a million times since everything happened, I’d probably try harder at responding nicer.
I scowl and turn away from Chris, despite his kind apology. “I’m tired, scared, and angry. Everyone is treating me like a doll that’s going to break, and I just want to see my brother. I’m fine, but no one will listen to me.” I shift to lie back on the bed when he surprises me again.
“Let’s go see him then.”
Again, I move too quickly, and I inhale sharply as pain spikes up my arm for a moment. “That’s not funny to joke about. Penelope is never going to let me leave without clearing it with Sebastian since they’re all buddy buddy now. Bash won’t agree unless my doctor clears it. Knowing him, he’d probably get a second opinion if that doctor agreed.”
Chris chuckles, clearly thinking I’m joking about how overprotective both of them have been. “I’m serious. You’re an adult who can make your own decisions. Penelope took Henry to get ice cream so if you want to go, there’s no one here to stop us. Honestly, I can’t blame him for being cautious. I saw the video of the accident someone posted online, and it’s hard to watch.”
“Someone took a video?” I ask, my mouth growing dry. I didn’t know that.
“I’m sorry.”
Curiousity is getting the better of me, but I don’t remember anything other than hearing a car before waking up in the hospital, hearing that Owen was in surgery, and his condition was critical. “Can I see it?” I ask, and now Chris hesitates.
“Lia—”
“No. I want to see it. Watching a short video is not going to make my brain melt, so please, show it to me,” I insist, holding out my good hand for Chris to hand me his phone.
He sighs, shaking his head before relenting, placing the device in my hand. “I’m going to hell for this.”
“I was bound to see it at some point,” I mumble under my breath as I turn the volume up to hear a fan speaking excitedly as they zoom in on me and Owen walking. In the background, it’s blurry, but I see a car driving fast, my head turns in the video, and Owen has half a second to shove me out of the way before he’s hit head-on, flying up over the top of the car, landing in a heap on the ground. My body is lying a few feet away as I try to get up before falling back to the ground, my head bouncing off the concrete like a ball. Two women run over, splitting off to check on us just as Sebastian enters the frame, falling to his knees next to me.
I turn the phone off, not needing to see any more. “Thank you for showing me,” I say, my voice thick as I blink tears out of my eyes. Owen had enough time to save me, or himself, and he chose me. My idiotic brother chose me over himself, and I haven’t been to see him. I knew there was a drunk driver, and that I wasn’t hit, but Owen was, but I didn’t know why. “I need to see my brother.” I look up at Chris, my mind made up, as I push the blankets off me.
Chris offers me a hand. “I do have to ask if you’re okay enough to go. I don’t want to make anything worse,” he says hesitantly, and I put my hand in his.
“I have a concussion, and a broken arm. A few stitches, but I’m not sure those really count. I’ll need sunglasses, but as long as you don’t slam on the brakes too hard, I don’t see how it’s a problem,” I reassure Chris, feeling confident that this is the right move.
It makes more sense now after seeing the video why Bash has barely let me out of his sight. I love him for it, and I can’t blame him at all, but I need a little room to breathe. I was determined to see Owen prior to knowing the truth of the accident, but now that I know the only reason I’m not hurt worse is because he pushed me out of the way, I’m desperate.
I spend the entire ride listening to Chris’s stories about Henry as he tries to distract me. But all I can think about is Owen.
The lights in the hospital are bright so I keep my sunglasses on, despite the looks people are giving me. Chris makes sure to walk on the side that’s broken to prevent anyone from accidentally bumping into me. My confidence flickers when I see Blake and Sebastian standing in the hallway outside the door the nurse told me was Owen’s. Maybe I didn’t think this through enough because I thought Bash was at the stadium, but apparently not.
He glances over, doing a double take.
“Oh shit,” I swear under my breath .
“Man, he does not look happy with me,” Chris says as Sebastian’s jaw visibly tightens, walking toward us quickly.
“Chris, what the hell?” he demands, his anger simmering underneath his skin. “I asked you to cheer her up, not bring her to the hospital.”
“I’m fine. You don’t need to talk about me in front of me,” I protest, and Sebastian’s whiskey eyes soften as they meet mine.
“Lia, I’m sorry, but please, go home,” he begs, shaking his head, looking at Chris. “Take her home now.”
My jaw drops. I don’t need his permission to go anywhere. I open my mouth to argue, but Chris beats me to it.
“No. Sebastian, she’s miserable at the house. Owen is her brother, and she wants to see him. We’re already here, so just do the alpha male shit later,” Chris snaps, standing his ground. For a moment, I expect Bash to lash back, yet his shoulders simply sink in defeat as he drags a hand through his dark hair, and he steps out of the way.
I adjust my sling, drawing his attention to me and my stupid sunglasses. “How’s your head?” he questions, scanning over me, but I don’t know how to feel right now.
“It’s fine,” I say softly, walking past him before he decides to change his mind, and carry me out of here against my will. Blake is standing outside the door, her auburn hair twisted up on her head as she drowns in one of Owen’s sweatshirts. Her eyes echo the same haunted look I’ve been noticing in Sebastian’s when he stares off into space, but the bags under her eyes are more prominent.
Fuck, I don’t know what to say to her. Almost like she can sense my awkwardness, she smiles faintly. “Hi, Lia. He just took his meds a little bit ago, so he shouldn’t be in pain. He’ll be coherent a little bit longer so you guys can chat. Just…just don’t take anything he says right now too personally, okay?”
What is that supposed to mean?
I can feel Sebastian and Chris hover behind me, but I lean forward to hug her carefully. “I’m sorry this happened.”
“Me too.”
The light in Owen’s room is dimmed so I move the sunglasses to sit on top of my head as my brain tries to process the sight in front of me. His leg is propped on pillows, but it’s the metal rods sticking out of his leg connecting to a cage that draw my immediate attention. His wrist is in a cast, but I can’t look away from the leg. I suck in a sharp breath, unable to mask the horror I know is on my face when he turns his head to look at me. I’m momentarily relieved to see his face is unmarred aside from the bandage around his head, but it flashes through my brain how his body lay on the ground motionless.
“It’s pretty ugly, isn’t it?” he asks flatly.
I could lie and try to tell him it doesn’t look that bad, but I don’t think it’ll be any use. My face already said everything, and lying to Owen isn’t going to help.
“It is,” I say softly, stealing another glance at the contraption surrounding his leg. My brain might be concussed, but it’s finally dawning on me how critical Owen’s condition must have been. “Owen…I’m sorry,” I stutter, finally understanding why I wasn’t allowed to see him.
Owen clears his throat, grimacing in pain as the monitors beep steadily in the background. “Stare if you want. It’ll be like this for a while. It doesn’t make sense to pretend it didn’t happen. ”
It feels stupid to ask if he’s okay, because he’s very clearly not. “What all did they do?” I ask cautiously, sitting down in the chair next to his bed.
“I was in a medically induced coma for three days to help the swelling in my brain go down after they removed a part of my skull to help with the intracranial pressure, I have a broken wrist, my lung collapsed and my ribs are broken, but it’s hard to know if that happened when I was hit by the car, or when they gave me CPR to keep me alive. They fixed the internal bleeding, and I think we’re at three surgeries on the leg with more to come. At this point, they should just fucking cut it off. It’d be easier for everyone involved,” he says bitterly, a hardness in his face that wasn’t there before the accident.
“Owen…you can’t mean that…” I trail off, wondering how the hell he’s supposed to get past this. Blake’s warning makes a lot more sense now.
“Except I do. I’m not even close to being done with surgeries, and I’m being told it’s a goddamn miracle I’m alive. I tore every fucking ligament in my knee, and my bone was broken so badly, it’s being held together with these fucking metal rods. It’s not like I’ll ever play football again, so what the hell do I need my leg for?” His voice shakes, and I can’t breathe.
“It’s your leg. Of course you need it! You’re going to get better, Owen.”
“No. You’re going to get better. Your life is going to go back to normal, and I’m happy for you. I really am glad that you’re okay, and I don’t regret pushing you out of the way. I’d do the same thing again in a heartbeat because knowing that you’re going to be fine is the only thing keeping me from losing my mind as I sit here with the knowledge that my life will never be the same.” He pauses to take a few deep breaths, and I feel tears spill down my cheeks. Owen motions with his good arm down at the mangled part of his body. “I’m not going to get better. This is what I’m stuck with for the rest of my life, trapped with the memories of what I used to be able to do as easy as breathing air because some drunk idiot tried to hit us with his car. The hope is to get my leg to a good enough place to see if I can walk without a limp. It might be my leg, but it’s fucking useless to me now.”
I reach for his hand, squeezing it reassuringly as my heart splits in two, wishing more than anything I could take some of the burden off his shoulders. “I don’t know how I can ever thank you for what you did, but we’ll get through this together. You’re not alone.”
His own tears fall as he looks away toward the window. “I’m glad you’re okay, Thalia,” he whispers brokenly.
“Thank you for saving me.”
I sit in the chair long after his eyes shut and his breathing steadies. Sebastian enters the room, and I’m sure he can read every emotion on my face as I look at him. I reluctantly let go of Owen’s hand, walking out of the room as Bash follows behind me. “Love, I’m sorry I didn’t let you come sooner. You needed to rest, and so did Owen.”
What? That’s what he’s apologizing for? What about not fucking telling me about all of this in the first place! “He’s my brother, Sebastian. I deserved to know how bad he was hurt, especially when the only reason he’s here is because Owen chose to fucking save m—” My voice cracks, attracting the attention of a few nurses coming out of a different room. “You don’t let me do anything either. Who do you think you are making that decision for me? ”
“I did tell you! The doctors told you too!” Sebastian snaps, his face twisting in anguish as he presses his fingers to his temples. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t let you do anything, but you’re not healthy right now. Your mind isn’t functioning the way it should be, and I wanted to give you more time to get better before bringing you here.”
“What? I-I would know if you told me how severely injured Owen is. My brain is fine—I’m fine,” I insist, but why would he lie about this?
“Thalia, when you kept asking about Owen and what happened after you were already told a few times, the doctors ran some tests and determined your concussion was causing anterograde amnesia. They think it’s temporary, just until your brain has more time to heal, but the doctors suggested keeping you home and away from the stress of the accident. I’m sorry, but I’m doing the best I can,” he says, gently tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. This doesn’t make any sense. My brain wouldn’t play tricks on me like this. “What day is it?” Sebastian asks softly, and I know the answer. This is easy.
“Thursday.”
He smiles sadly, kissing my forehead sweetly. “It’s Tuesday. That’s how I know.”
My cheeks burn in embarrassment because Chris and I just talked about this an hour ago, and I already forgot the correct answer. Bash was right not to tell me anything. I’ve been so angry with him for watching over me like a hawk, for keeping me from leaving the house, but he was right to do so.
I lean in, resting my head on his chest. “Bash, I’m not okay,” I whisper, clutching at his back with my one good arm as his fold around me immediately .
“You’re not right now, but you will be. It’s going to be okay; you just need more rest,” Sebastian promises, holding me firmly.