Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
CALLUM/CASH
Now
Warped Whiplash & The Phantom Behind the Curtain
Some moments change history without permission.
Dr. Smith stops us at the threshold of her room. His hand rests on the door frame like he’s guarding the entrance to something sacred and fragile.
“There’s a privacy drape around Ms. Hemings’ bed.” He keeps his voice low and clinical. “Given her request for Callum and the severity of her head trauma, I think it’s best if he goes in first.”
Jaxon’s jaw tightens. “And where exactly am I supposed to be?”
“Near the door, but out of her line of sight.” Dr. Smith’s tone leaves no room for negotiation. “For her health, I need to ensure she doesn’t become agitated. If she shows any signs of distress, you’ll both need to leave.”
“This is ridiculous.” Jaxon squares his shoulders. “I’m her partner.”
“Then you should put her well-being above your own needs. And right now, she’s asking for someone else.” The doctor’s gaze shifts to me. “Callum, are you ready?”
A lump forms in my throat. Ready?
How the hell am I supposed to be ready for this? The woman I’ve loved since I was a kid just lost Jaxon’s baby and she’s asking for me instead of him.
Nothing about this makes sense, and everything about it has me bracing for the worst possible situation.
Is this where she tells me I don’t stand a chance? Is this where she tells me goodbye?
Jaxon growls low as the doctor motions forward.
“Yeah.” The word scrapes out, and I nod. “I’m ready.”
Dr. Smith pushes the door open and gestures for me to enter. I step into her room.
Jaxon moves into the opening behind the curtain. His expression is unreadable, but his arms cross over his chest and he glares my way.
Our eyes meet for half a second, and something passes between us. Maybe it’s mutual understanding that Livianna’s health matters more than whatever war we’re waging.
The room is dim, clean, and overwhelming. Machines hum quietly in the background. The blue drape Dr. Smith mentioned surrounds her bed like a shield, blocking her from view.
My boots are heavy against the linoleum as I cross the space between the door and where she lies. My pulse hammers as I reach the edge of the fabric and pull it aside just enough to slip through.
The sight of her steals my breath and shatters what’s left of my composure. I have to take a deep breath to steady myself.
Livianna lies motionless in the hospital bed, her face pale and bruised. Dark lashes rest against her cheeks. Bandages wrap around her head, and an IV snakes from her arm to a bag hanging beside her.
She’s so small, so breakable, like one wrong word could ruin her. The air in my lungs leaves me as I move closer.
This situation is gonna break her. God, I hope she doesn’t ask me about her baby. I pray she doesn’t collapse like she did when she lost ours.
No. Don’t go there. Not now.
I sink into the chair beside her bed and reach for her hand. Her skin is cool beneath my palm, soft and still. I brush my thumb over her knuckles as I lean forward, bringing her hand to my lips.
“I’m here, Lily.” The words come out rough and broken. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
Her eyelids flutter.
My pulse picks up as her lashes lift, revealing those blue eyes I’ve been drowning in since we were kids. Confusion clouds her gaze as she blinks up at the ceiling, then at me.
“Callum?” Her voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper.
“Yeah, it’s me.” I tighten my grip on her hand, terrified she’ll slip away again. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”
Her brows furrow as if she’s trying to process where she is. “Did I miss your birthday party?”
Her question has my thoughts tripping over each other, and my mind scrambles to make sense of it.
Birthday party? My birthday was in December and it’s late April. What the hell is she talking about?
“Why would you think you missed my party?” I keep my voice gentle, careful not to let the confusion bleed through.
“Because I’m in the hospital and you were having a twentieth birthday party.” Her fingers squeeze mine weakly. “Bren and I planned to surprise you, but I ruined it, didn’t I? I was supposed to meet you in Jersey, in your hotel suite, and now I’m here instead.”
Jersey. My twentieth birthday. That was over five years ago.
My stomach drops, but I force my expression to stay neutral. “Lily, you didn’t ruin anything.”
“I did, though.” Her eyes well up and a tear slides down her temple. “I wanted to do something special for you, but now everything’s messed up. Are you missing concerts because of me? Is Leon pissed I’m in Jersey?”
Leon. She’s talking about Leon Baker like we’re still under his label, like I didn’t get him off my back with my secret blackmail I have over him. She doesn’t know anything about Leon, but she knows I started my own label.
What the hell is going on?
The realization slams into me with brutal force. She doesn’t remember. She thinks it’s five years ago, when she flew out to surprise me for my birthday.
That means… She must believe we’re still together. She must think we’re still kids trying to navigate my poor behavior and the way I mistreated her because I was dealing with being sexually abused by Leon.
Holy… Fuckin a.
She doesn’t remember walking in on Zara and me in bed together. Livianna doesn’t remember Jaxon. She doesn’t know about the baby she just lost.
My throat closes up as something dangerously close to hope rises inside my chest. This is wrong. This is so fucking wrong.
But having her look at me like I’m still hers, like the last five years of hell never happened, feels like breathing for the first time in forever. I glance toward the gap in the curtain, toward where Jaxon is standing out of sight.
Can he hear this? Does he understand what’s happening? Is he putting together that the woman he’s been with doesn’t remember him at all right now?
What am I supposed to do?
“Leon’s not pissed.” I turn back to her, keeping my voice steady. “And I’m not missing any concerts. Everything’s fine.”
“Where’s Bren?” Her confusion deepens. “Do my parents know?”
“They’re on their way here. Just relax. You’re safe, and that’s all that matters right now.” I bring her hand to my lips again, pressing a kiss to the top of it. “Don’t worry about anything, okay? Just focus on getting better.”
“My head hurts.” She closes her eyes. “Everything’s fuzzy. I can’t remember what happened or how I got here.”
“You were in a car accident.” I measure each word carefully, not wanting to overwhelm her. “But you’re gonna be okay. The doctors are taking good care of you.”
“A car accident?” Her eyes fly open, panic flashing across her features. “Was anyone else hurt?”
“No, love. No one else was hurt.” The endearment slips out before I can stop it, but she doesn’t seem to notice.
She relaxes against the pillow, her breathing evening out. “I’m sorry I ruined your birthday.”
“You didn’t. Trust me, nothing is wrong with me.” My chest tightens as I study her face, cataloging every bruise, every bandage, and every sign of the trauma she’s been through. “Having you be okay is the best gift I could ask for.”
Her lips curve into the faintest smile. “You’re just saying that.”
“I’m not.” And I mean it.
Having her look at me like this, like I’m her whole world again, is everything I’ve wanted since I lost her. Even if it’s built on memory loss. Even if it won’t last.
Even if Jaxon is standing on the other side of that fabric barrier, listening to the woman he loves forget they’ve been together for over two years.
The curtain rustles, and Dr. Smith steps through. His gaze sweeps over Livianna before it lands on me. His expression remains neutral, but there’s concern etched in the lines around his eyes.
“Ms. Hemings, I’m Dr. Smith.” He moves to the opposite side of her bed and checks the monitors. “How are you feeling?”
“My head hurts and I’m sore all over.” She squints up at him as if the light is too bright. “And I’m confused about what happened.”
“That’s completely normal with a concussion.” He pulls a small penlight from his pocket. “I’m going to ask you a few questions. Can you tell me your full name?”
“Livianna Grace Hemings.”
“Good. And where are you right now?”
Her face screws up. “The hospital. In New Jersey, I think?”
“Okay.” Dr. Smith nods, and his stance strains a tad. “Do you know why you’re here?”
“Callum said I was in a car accident.” She places her hand in mine. “But I don’t remember it.”
“Memory gaps are common with head trauma.” He checks her pupils with the penlight. “Can you tell me how old you are?”
“Eighteen.” Her answer comes without hesitation.
My stomach flips. Eighteen. She thinks she’s eighteen when she’s actually twenty-three. Five years just vanished from her mind like they never existed.
Dr. Smith stands and gazes down at Livianna. His eyes flick to me for half a second before returning to her. “And who is this young man holding your hand?”
“Callum Mayze.” A soft smile touches her lips despite the pain she must be feeling. “My boyfriend.”
The declaration slams into my chest with enough force to crack ribs. Boyfriend. She said it so easily, so naturally, as if it’s still true and we never broke up.
Dr. Smith shifts his weight from side to side. “Do you remember what you were doing before the accident?”
“I was going to surprise Callum for his birthday.” Her voice wavers. “But I can’t remember anything after getting to the airport.”
“That’s all right. Your memories may return as you heal.” He tucks the penlight away and checks her IV. “I’m going to order another scan to make sure everything looks good. In the meantime, you need to rest. No stress and no agitation. Understood?”
“Yes. I’m tired, so it shouldn’t be a problem.” She tries to sit up and winces.
“I’ll put in an order for something for your pain.” Dr. Smith turns to me, his expression serious. “Mr. Mazye, can I speak with you outside for a moment?”
My pulse spikes. “Yeah, of course.”