Chapter 30
T he next few weeks pass by in a flurry of meds, surgeries, and nasty hospital food.
I get visits from Ryder, Mitch and Elle, as well as the police.
They ask me to go through all the interactions that I had with Dawn so they can build a case.
Since her friends told the guidance counselor what she was saying, they had enough to charge her with premeditated murder.
After she hit me, Dawn tried to drive away but the reporters blocked her in, taking photos and crowding around the scene.
It gave the school resource officer time to come outside and apprehend her.
She told him that it was an accident and that she didn’t see me, but he didn’t buy it after he was informed by the school counselor about what her friends said.
I can’t say I feel sorry for her. She had more than enough time to get over the breakup, but she chose to run Ethan down instead. I really hope she gets the help she needs but also pays for what she did.
True to his word, my father is there every day, staying until visiting hours are over.
We don’t talk as much as we did the first few days, but there’s an ease between us now and the silences aren’t uncomfortable.
We even caught wrestling a few times. While it wasn’t Monday Night Raw, we both still enjoyed it.
One night, he drops a bomb on me, one that I saw coming but makes me sad all the same.
“I left your mother. For good.” He looks at me, still with that air of sadness around him that he can’t seem to shake.
“I came home and found her passed out in the middle of the floor. She told me she was going to get help so she could work on a relationship with you, but she doesn’t mean it.
And I can’t be around for that. So, yeah, if you want to come visit your old man, I just signed a lease for a small one-bedroom apartment downtown.
It’s not much, but you’re welcome. Anytime. ” I nod, holding back tears.
I'd hoped that my being injured would've been an incentive for my mother to get some help, but she’s too far gone. I’m not going to beg her to be in my life and, apparently, my dad isn’t either.
I briefly wonder how she’ll pay her bills, but that’s not my problem. She’s an adult, she’ll figure it out.
My ribs are feeling better and my head doesn’t feel like there’s a bowling ball sitting on my shoulders anymore. Soon, I’ll be able to go home, at least until the next surgery in a month. The ex-fix was taken off, so my leg isn’t jacked in the air and I can move around a lot better.
When my friends come, the nurses look the other way and allow all five of them to sit around my bed to shoot the shit with me. Crystal, even though she told me to chill and recover, always brings my homework and helps explain anything I have questions about.
Ryder likes to regale me with play-by-plays of different things happening at school, shit that I really don’t care about but he thinks is extremely funny, so I indulge him.
Elle likes to talk about Elle things, going a mile a minute, not letting me get a word in, but I don’t mind. I can see the strain around her eyes, so I know she’s trying to be respectful of me asking them not to cry. After the incident with my father, I don’t think I can handle it.
Mitch is still broody, but he tries to joke when it gets too somber. Which is funny because he’s terrible at it, which makes us all laugh. It effectively lightens the mood, so maybe he’s onto something.
After I’ve been at the hospital for exactly a month, Dr. Reynolds tells me I can go home.
Since Grace is a doctor, he trusts that I’ll be taken care of and to just come back in four weeks for my third and final surgery.
Thank God. I’m really sick of seeing these four walls, and the food fucking sucks.
My dad volunteers to drive me to their house, and Ethan takes the things everyone brought to the hospital for me.
I have to get a ride down in a wheelchair, which I grumble about, but I’m secretly thankful for.
I’ve been doing some walking, with the doc trying to get me to work on my mobility, but that shit fucking hurts.
I know I’ll have to walk when I get home, but right now, I don’t think I can. Maybe after the last surgery.
Ethan and my dad help me into the back of the car, and I stretch my leg across the seat, careful not to bump it on anything.
On the way to Ethan’s, my dad asks me, “You think you need to go to therapy? For the accident and…living at home?”
Honestly, I think I do. For both. They both weigh heavily on me. I suppressed a lot of my emotions and how I felt about my mother, and I’ve been having nightmares about the accident. I need to see someone to get my head together.
“Yes.”
He’s quiet for a few beats, then in a small voice, asks, “Can I come with you? I don’t have to be in the room, of course.” He glances at me in the rearview mirror. “I can take you and wait until you’re done. Then we can go get something to eat or watch a movie after?”
He’s so hopeful and scared at the same time.
He shouldn’t worry. I know he’s trying to do better and he’s been keeping his word.
He stays with me every day and I never failed to wake up without him already in the room.
Most of the time, he was asleep and his snoring woke me, but he kept his word. He’s trying.
“Of course, Dad. Maybe we can do family therapy?”
He looks up sharply, a smile on his face. “Yeah? You’d want to? If you need me there to work some things out, I will.”
“That would be nice.” We’re quiet for the rest of the ride, but he keeps looking at me in the mirror, a really happy expression playing across his face. I’m really glad we can work on our relationship. I’ve missed him.
The journey to Ethan’s room is an experience.
While Ethan and my dad didn’t want to baby me, they didn’t want to give me space either.
It took me bumping my leg into the wall, and crying out in pain and frustration, for them to back off and work together.
Kinda wish I had that wheelchair now, with the way these two are acting.
My dad sat in Ethan’s armchair for a few hours while I lounged in his bed, and Ethan left to go back to track practice and run some errands after. Again, we don’t say much; just sit and watch TV and enjoy the company.
When it became apparent that I couldn’t keep my eyes open, Dad kissed my forehead and whispered, “Love you, kid” and promised to be back tomorrow.
Before he left, he gave me some pain meds because my leg was throbbing and I knew I wouldn’t be able to scooch over to grab them. They kicked in pretty quickly. I tried to stay awake until Ethan came home, but it was impossible. Shortly after my father left, I was sucked down into a deep sleep.
It wasn’t dreamless though. I’m still having nightmares, with most of them focused on parts of the accident I couldn’t remember.
This one was worse. I had a dream that no matter how fast I ran, I couldn’t get to Ethan in time.
And since my brain is an asshole and refuses to give me a break, I had to watch, over and over again, how he was struck by Dawn’s car, body flying in the air, landing in a contorted mess.
Then I could hear Dawn’s manic laughter, even though my hands were covering my ears.
Waking up with a start, I look around frantically, trying to get my bearings.
I feel the mattress under me, not hard pavement, so I know I’m safe.
It’s dark outside, no lights on in the room.
I click on the bedside lamp to see Ethan on a raised air mattress, his head on the bed, arm stretched in my direction.
My heart stutters, not liking how uncomfortable he must be, but loving that he’s so close.
I reach out for his hand and tap him to wake him up. It’s selfish, but that nightmare has me frightened and I really want his arms around me. “Hey. Wake up, babe.”
He surfaces gradually, eyes blinking slowly, and he looks up at me.
Smiling, he grabs my hand and says, “Hey, creep. Sleep well?”
I shake my head. “Nightmare. I’m scared to go back to sleep.”
“Want me to get in the bed with you?” I nod and he hauls himself off the air mattress and moves to the other side of the bed, opposite my injured leg.
Once he’s comfortable, I scoot closer to him, and he tucks me against his chest, his chin on my head. “What was your dream about?”
“I dreamed that I couldn’t save you,” I say in a choked whisper. Just thinking about that makes my chest hurt.
“But you did. I wish I could take your place. I wish it was me laid up like this so you wouldn’t hurt.”
“I’m fine,” I retort.
“No you’re not, but you will be. I’ll take care of you, creep. What will make you feel better? What can I do?”
“Kiss me?” I look up at him and Ethan smiles at me, cupping my face with his large hands. He tilts my head back and joins our lips. Delicate kisses, no heat or arousal. Just comfort. Exactly what I need—to realize that I really am safe and in the arms of the man I love.
He pulls back and rubs my cheek. “You think you should talk to someone? A professional?”
Nodding, I carefully arrange myself so I don’t bump my leg. “Me and my dad are going to go. He wants to do family therapy. I said I would.”
Ethan hugs me tight to him, rocking us a little. “That’s great, creep. I’m glad you and your dad are patching things up.”
“Me too.” I tell him about how Dad said he left my mom and he has a new place downtown. How he got a promotion at work and is cutting back on his hours. And how he’s taking some much needed vacation time, which I know he needs because he’s been sleeping a lot.
“I wish he could take the vacation time and not have to worry about coming back and forth to check on me,” I say.
“He’s your dad. He doesn’t mind checking to make sure you’re okay. And we can set him up in your old room for nights you want him to stay over.”
I look up at him quickly, a smile on my face and tears in my eyes. “You guys would do that for me?”
Giving me a incredulous look, he rolls his eyes. “Creep, I think my parents would give you the moon if you asked for it. And that was before you saved my life. I actually think they might like you more than they like me.” He has an exasperated look on his face, but I know he’s teasing.
It means a lot that he and his family are willing to help us like this. Even before the accident, Frank and Grace went out of their way to make sure I was taken care of, safe from my abuser.
My road to recovery will be a long one. I’m going to need a lot of help and I know I’m going to have Ethan, my dad, and his parents in my corner, helping me every step of the way.
“That’s not true,” I say with a chuckle. “They just like me because you forced me on them.”
He chuckles and kisses the top of my head. “Nah. They liked you immediately. Just like me.” He blows out a deep breath and runs his hands up and down my arm. “Does it hurt real bad?”
“Yes.” I wish I could lie to him. I wish I could spare his feelings but we’ve never lied to each other, not even to make the other feel better.
However, I try to ease his mind a little.
“After this last surgery, it’ll get better.
Give me a few months and I might be able to run outside and throw a football with you and Ryder. ”
That makes Ethan really laugh. But I don’t even care. He knew before we got together that I’m not sports-inclined, so it’s whatever.
“When you’re ready, I’ll show you how to throw one.”
“You think you can hold me until I fall asleep?”
He leans down and drags the blanket over me, careful that it doesn’t hurt my leg. When he sits back, he settles me against his chest. “Of course, creep. I’ll do anything for you.”
Sighing, I get as close as my leg will allow me and kiss his pec.
God, this is the best place to be. Wrapped in Ethan's arms, safe and knowing I am loved. And I know that, no matter what bad dreams may come, he'll always be here.
Taking care of me.