Twenty
February Nineteenth
Whitney
Whitney inhaled sharply, letting out a groan as she gripped Fade's hand. He stepped closer to the bed. “Hey, babe.”
She turned her face toward him, eyes still closed. “Holy shit, I wish I was dead.”
Her voice was strained with pain.
“I do not,”
Fade said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“Why does my ass hurt so bad?”
she whined, shifting uncomfortably.
“I don’t know — the doctor said you had stitches back there.”
Fade rubbed her arm gently. “What do you remember?”
She exhaled slowly, trying to compose herself. “I fell.”
Fade glanced over at Aldous. “Was your fall an accident?”
Her brow furrowed. “Yeah?”
Whitney’s eyes slowly peeled open, her confusion obvious. “Why?”
“You woke up saying you wish you were dead,”
he reminded her.
“Because I’m in pain, you ass,”
she snapped, wincing as she shifted again.
Aldous touched her other arm carefully. “Well, the doctors don’t think it was an accident.”
“God,”
she muttered, her face twisting in pain. “Can we get somebody in here to give me something?”
“I’ll go grab someone.”
Aldous stepped toward the door and disappeared into the hallway.
As the door clicked shut, Whitney turned back to Fade. “Orion’s around here somewhere, following Rachel around. And Amy stopped by with your purse and they’re trying to get surveillance footage.”
She groaned again. “That’s going to be near impossible. You said yourself there are no cameras up there.”
“Shit,”
he muttered, realizing she was right and trying to think of any other areas that might have coverage.
“So they think I jumped?”
she asked, her voice quieter now.
He sat back down next to her, reaching for her hand again. “Yeah.”
Her eyes squeezed shut as her body tensed with another wave of pain. “Take it easy,”
he murmured. “You’ve got cracked ribs and a fractured pelvis.”
“Fuck,”
she whispered, her body softening again as she tried to relax. “I stumbled. I was checking the panels, and my heels slipped. Next thing I knew, I was going over the railing.”
Aldous returned with a doctor trailing behind him. “How are we feeling?”
the doctor asked, his tone kind but professional.
“Like shit,”
Whitney muttered.
“You did take quite the fall.”
The doctor adjusted her IV line and injected something into it. “This should help keep you comfortable. We’ll need to monitor your injuries overnight and keep you for another day or two, depending on how your evaluation goes.”
He smiled briefly and turned, almost bumping into Brittanya and June as they entered the room. “Whitney,”
Brittanya said softly, heading to the other side of the bed. “What happened?”
“She fell fourteen feet and tumbled another sixteen,”
Fade answered quickly. “Three cracked ribs, a fractured pelvis, stitches —”
Whitney cut him off. “I went up to check the solar panels after the cold night. I turned, lost my footing, and basically threw myself over the side. I grabbed the railing, but my weight pulled my hands free with the momentum.”
Fade stroked her hair gently as she spoke.
“It’s a good thing I didn’t tell anyone I was going up there,”
she added, her voice fading. “Security wouldn’t have checked the alert.”
“I’m so glad you’re okay,”
June said softly from the foot of the bed. She turned to Fade. “Wolfgang collected your stuff from the job site. He’s got it whenever you’re ready.”
Fade sighed with relief. “Thank you. I hadn’t even thought of that yet.”
“Is there anything we can do for you, Whitney?”
Brittanya asked.
Whitney looked at them both. “I’m starving.”
“We’re on it.”
June rubbed her foot gently before she and Brittanya slipped back out into the hallway.
Fade leaned in closer. “Way to make me look like a bad boyfriend.”
Whitney’s lips curled into a weak smile. “Fiancé,”
she corrected him, her voice soft.
“Right,”
he murmured, his own smile growing.
She turned her head toward Aldous. “Are you sure Orion’s here?”
“I saw him not too long ago. When he walks by again, I’ll grab him if you want me to.”
She tugged the blanket higher, shivering slightly. “I don’t care. I just thought I’d be more important than a piece of ass.”
Fade leaned down closer. “Rachel confessed to him.”
“What?”
Whitney’s eyes snapped toward him. “When?”
“When she apologized to me. Orion walked in and heard everything.”
He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal.
“And he’s still chasing her around?”
Whitney’s frustration was clear.
Aldous shrugged. “That’s where he’s been every time I’ve seen him.”
Whitney scoffed, shaking her head. “And he thinks I’m dick-whipped?”
Fade laughed softly just as Brittanya and June returned. “Good news,”
June announced with a smile. “The cafeteria has chicken strips. They’ll be here soon.”
“Thank you,”
Whitney whispered, her eyelids growing heavy. “I think my medicine’s kicking in.”
“If you guys want to go, I’ll keep you updated once I grab my phone from the car,”
Fade offered. “No news will be good news.”
“Are you sure?”
Brittanya asked. “Do you need anything?”
“I’m okay.”
Fade smiled softly at them both.
“Okay, just keep us in the loop.”
Brittanya gave Aldous’s arm a tug, and the three of them slipped out of the room.
“Get some rest,”
Fade murmured, brushing a kiss across Whitney’s face before settling back into the chair to watch over her.
February Twentieth
Fade
Fade lifted his head from the wall, a poor excuse for a pillow, and watched Whitney shift restlessly under the thin sheets. She groaned, her eyes finding him in the dark. “What are you still doing here?”
“I have no reason to go home. Everything I care about is right here.”
He reached for her arm, squeezing it softly before leaning his head back against the wall.
“I'll be fine if you wanna go home, I have Rachel.”
She joked.
“I don’t want to go home.”
He closed his eyes, ignoring her attempt to push him away.
She dragged air through her teeth in discomfort. “When’s my next medicine drop-off?”
He lifted his phone after finally retrieving it from the car and checked the time. “Fifteen minutes.”
The low hum of the machines filled the quiet between them. Finally, she broke it. “Do you think I did this on purpose? That I jumped?”
“God, no, Whitney. I’d hope you’d come to me before you… before it ever got to that.”
He sat up, elbows on his knees, moving closer.
“Do a lot of people think I jumped?”
“I don’t think anyone thinks that. The doctor’s just following protocol.”
She smiled faintly. “I can think of better ways to go out than a fourteen-foot fall with a shitty mountain grade.”
He dragged his chair directly beside her bed, taking her hand. “Whitney, I love you more than life itself. Which, given my life, might not be saying much — but it’s what people say. And if I could change anything, I’d have taken you up on that mile-high club invitation.”
Her chuckle turned into a hiss of pain. “Damn. Don’t make me laugh.”
“Sorry.”
He kissed her hand. “I just wish I’d had you longer.”
“I’m not dying.”
She pulled the blanket higher, keeping her fingers wrapped around his. “How long is this going to take?”
“For the nurse? You want me to get her?”
“No, my healing. How long will this hurt?”
“I’m not sure. A month, probably, for your ribs.”
“And my pelvis?”
He stroked her wrist with his thumb. “That’s a big bone. A few months, I’d guess.”
Her eyes softened. “I’m going to limp down the aisle, aren’t I?”
“It’s not that soon.”
He did some quick math in his head.
“It’s six weeks away.”
“You’ll be fine.”
He tried to sound sure.
“But will you be?”
“What? Of course I will.”
“Fade… I probably won’t be able to have sex for a while. And if it takes three months to heal, I doubt I’ll be jumping into bed on our wedding night.”
He stood, leaning over her. “I will love you no matter what, in any condition, for however long it takes. I’ll make sure you get the care you need. And when you’re feeling one hundred percent again? Then, yeah, I’ll happily watch you across the room in that mirror again.”
He smiled, his voice dropping. “But I can wait, baby. Believe it or not, I can wait.”
Her smile warmed as he leaned down for a kiss. When the nurse walked in, he pulled back reluctantly.
“How are we doing?”
The nurse kept her voice soft.“I would die for more medication,”
Whitney teased weakly.
The nurse didn’t react to the joke, adjusting her IV with quiet efficiency before stepping away.
“Are you okay with Aldous and Orion walking me down the aisle?”
Whitney asked once they were alone again.
“I already told you, tell me when and where, and I’ll show up. I don’t care who’s there.”
“Alright.”
He watched her drift back to sleep, then settled into the uncomfortable chair, letting exhaustion finally pull him under.
Whitney
A mature nurse entered the room after the doctor and shut the door behind her. “Whitney, I’m here for your evaluation. Would you prefer an empty room?”
She glanced toward Fade.
“No, he’s fine.”
The nurse nodded and opened her tablet. “Let’s get started. In the past two months, have you had thoughts of harming yourself? If yes, how often?”
Whitney stared ahead, annoyed. “No. Never.”
“Do you have a history of self-harm or suicide attempts?”
She met the nurse’s eyes. “Don’t we all?”
The nurse tilted her head. “Could you explain?”
“Seventy-five percent of the people you scrape up and bring here don’t exactly have picture-perfect pasts. I haven’t had those kinds of thoughts since I got here, but people like me? We come from rough places. And if I had wanted to end it, I’d have found a far more efficient way than falling off a hill.”
The nurse shifted uncomfortably. “I understand you’re frustrated. I usually ask patients to follow up in a week, but given your condition, I’ll come to you. What day works?”
Whitney raised an eyebrow. “I’m literally tied to this bed because of my condition. Take your pick.”
“I’ll see you next Monday, then. You’re not fully in the clear, but you’re approved to go home. And this gentleman?”
She gestured to Fade.
Whitney’s patience frayed. “My fiancé.”
“Fade.”
He stood, offering his hand.
The nurse smiled politely. “Will you be caring for her at home?”
“I plan on being by her side until she’s better. If not me, her roommate Brittanya will.”
“Thank you. If anything changes, please reach out.”
She lightly tapped her phone against the outline of his in his pocket, as if Whitney wouldn’t catch the move.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Thank you.”
The nurse gave Whitney a too-sweet smile. “And if you need anything, don’t hesitate to contact me.”
Whitney’s eyes glazed over. “Thanks.”
The word was heavy with sarcasm as the nurse left.
The doctor entered almost immediately after. “Whitney,”
he began, flipping through his notes, “you’re cleared to go home. Take it easy on your ribs for four to six weeks, and your pelvis for eight to twelve. We’ll remove your stitches in two weeks.”
Her brow furrowed. “How many stitches do I even have?”
“Eleven. Along your lower back and left buttock. Likely from whatever you hit on the way down.”
He closed his file. “Keep the area clean, and the reception desk will help you with discharge paperwork. I’ll see you in two weeks.”
As the door clicked shut, Whitney exhaled heavily. “Can I have the clothes Brittanya brought?”
Slowly, she pushed herself upright, using muscles from her exotic dancing days to ease the movement.
“Yeah.”
Fade dug through the bag, pulling out fresh sweats, underwear, and a t-shirt.
She looked down at the pile with real appreciation. “God, she’s a saint.”
Carefully, she untied her hospital gown. “How’s my back?”
“You’re gonna be fine.”
He adjusted the ties for her, his touch gentle.
“Be honest.”
She leaned forward slightly. “How bad is it?”
His fingers traced softly along her spine. “Some bruising. A mean little cut down here, but nothing too ugly.”
“Okay, but I’ve been dreading this next part.”
She winced. “The ass gash feels like it went right through my Fade tattoo.”
He laughed, warm and low. “Ass gash? Let’s take a look.”
As she stood with a groan, she felt the mattress shift behind her as he leaned in closer. His fingers brushed the edge of the injury.
“Your tattoo’s fine,”
he murmured.
“Thank God.”
Relief flooded her. With a sigh, she let the hospital robe fall to the floor.