Chapter 40
Forty
I wring my hands together, pacing outside the hospital room door. Strouse wants to run a few tests and keep an eye on her overnight. I’m grateful. I’ll be even more grateful when he allows me to go inside.
“You’re going to burn a hole in this hospital floor.” Callum stands against the wall, arms folded, watching me. “Zev,” he says when I don’t stop my pace. “It’s not helping.”
“It’s not hurting anything either. I need to move.”
“You’re limping.”
I hadn’t even noticed. But now that he mentions it, my leg’s killing me. “I’m fine.”
Fran exits Rosalie’s door—she isn’t family either, but she was allowed inside. Dr. Strouse follows her out.
“Is she—”
“So far, so good,” Dr. Strouse says. “Looks like she was just overwhelmed. Her body panicked, and it was too much for her. We’ll keep an eye on her. But she should be home tomorrow.”
Fran stands in front of the door, eyes on me. “She wants to see you.”
“Does she know?” I say, unsure what I want the answer to be. I just got her back. And I don’t know what Rosalie will think of me once she knows that I knew her and never said anything.
“Yes,” Fran says, but she doesn’t look her normally joyful self. “She knows the two of you were together before.”
“And?” I stare at her. But Fran just moves out of the way of the door, allowing me inside.
I peer around at our friends; they all stare back with somber expressions. It’s quiet except for a hum from Roman and Stella’s little Ivy.
I suck in a breath, knowing there’s nowhere I’d rather be than next to Rosalie. No matter the circumstances. We’ve come this far, surely it can’t be for nothing.
The room is dim and it grows ever dimmer as the hospital door closes behind me. Her curtains are drawn, keeping the sun out; the only light streams from the cracked bathroom door.
“Rosalie?” I whisper.
She lies on her side, her hands clasped and beneath her cheek. She stares forward and she doesn’t move, not even with the sound of my voice.
“Hey, you.” I pat her foot. “You gave us a scare.”
But her position doesn’t change.
So, I take the seat next to her, making sure I’m right in her view. “Rosalie,” I say, looking at her. “I’m sorry.”
She blinks. It’s the first sign of life from her.
“I should have told you.” I rest my arms on my knees and bend to look her in the eyes—to force her to look at me. “Rosalie, I just—”
“You did what I asked,” she says, her voice so small. “Everyone did.”
Maybe she isn’t angry. Maybe she appreciates that we honored her wishes. Maybe she just needs to process. “It’s understandable. Things have been overwhelming, and with your panic attacks—”
“So instead of going against my wishes and telling me who you were, you pretended you didn’t know me.”
I swallow. “Uh—yeah.”
“You talked to me like a stranger.”
I huff. “I just wanted to talk to you.”
Her eyes find mine and she stares at me. “Where were you when I woke up? Why weren’t you at the hospital with my parents. With my grammy? With Fran?”
“I was.” I clear my throat, my heart pattering.
“We were in the accident together. I was in a hospital bed when you woke. I had surgery, but it was complicated, and I ended up needing a second procedure. They kept me here for a week. By the time they released me, you were adamant about learning things in your own way and time.”
Rosalie’s eyes droop down and her brows knit. “Your leg.”
“Yes.”
Her jaw clenches. “They said I was driving.”
I move to the edge of my seat. “You were. But we were parked off to the side. I’d asked you to pull over.” Guilt punches in my gut. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“Or yours.”
“Rosalie,” I say, scooting my seat closer to her.
She shakes her head, “I know what I said. I know I asked for people to not overshare. But when things progressed with us—” She shuts her eyes. “You should have told me.”
“I didn’t know what to do.”
“I know this is partly my fault. But you lied about not knowing me. Everything you said...” Another shake and a tear falls from her eye.
This can’t be happening. I lost her once, and now I’m going to lose her again. “Because I love you,” I say. “You didn’t want information. You didn’t want to meet a bunch of people who knew you but were strangers to you. You needed time. But Rose, I—” My voice cracks with the words. “I need you.”
Rolling onto her back, she stares at the ceiling. A tear skates down the side of her face and into her ear. “I’m not sure I can do this.”
Tears flood my eyes and blur my view of her. I sniff and run a hand beneath my nose. “You were willing to forgive Robert. But you can’t forgive me?”
“I have no memory of what Robert did.”
Am I the villain? Am I now lumped with that man who hurt her so badly?
“It took us so long the first time around.” I stand and scrub a hand down my face. “It couldn’t have all been for nothing.”
“I don’t remember the first time around.” She rolls away from me.
“That’s it?” I say. “You aren’t even going to try? You love me, Rosalie. And I don’t know how to live without you.”
Her shoulders shake and a quiet sob fills the air. “I need to think.”
“Please, Rose. Don’t let this little thing of me needing you and you not realizing it come between us. Please.”
“Little thing?” She tips onto her back and stares up at the sky once more. Tears stream from the corners of her eyes. She pushes them away with the back of her hand and exhales a shaky breath. “I’m going to need some time, Zev.”
Time. It’s the one thing that plagues us both.