Chapter 26 Nico
NICO
She loves me.
She loves me, she loves me, she—
“We’re ten minutes out. They’re ready for us?”
“They’re standing by. Stats holding steady.”
The ambulance bounces over a dip in the road, and I groan. Whatever they have me on is making the pain bearable, but it’s still agony.
Surgery. They mentioned surgery, right?
That’s probably why I’m not on something stronger. They’re going to put me under. And I’m going to wake up. I have to wake up. Because she told me to.
And she loves me.
Somehow, she loves me.
The tires squeal to a stop. Has it really been ten minutes? Time doesn’t feel right, like it’s moving through me rather than the other way around. Everything is a blur of light and color, and it hurts to open my eyes.
There’s nothing worth seeing anyway, because Este isn’t here.
People are talking, shouting, touching me, moving me. Someone pulls off my oxygen mask to replace it with a different one. The light is so bright.
“Okay, Nico, we’re going to count down from ten, okay?”
I close my eyes before she’s even finished speaking.
“Ten, nine…”
Did Este tell Shay? She said she was going to, right? I can’t believe I won’t be there when they meet for the first time. Shay is going to love her. She’ll understand why I was gone for her the second she thrust that bear into my arms.
“Eight, seven…”
I had plans to introduce them when the road cleared.
Plans to convince Este to stick around town for a few days so I could show her around.
I’d have taken her to Georgie’s bench and Shay’s bakery.
Beyond that, I’d have had to rope Shay into showing us both around, since I’ve never spent much time in Wintermore.
I was looking forward to seeing them together.
To Este seeing what a well-adjusted Harland sibling looks like.
To Shay meeting the person who owns me inside and out.
“Six…”
She loves me. And I love…
My sister is sitting in the corner of my hospital room, picking the same red nail polish she’s been wearing since seventh grade from her nails. She looks up when I shift, huffing a breath.
“It’s about time you woke up, Nicholas. I’m tired of listening to your snoring ass.”
She only ever uses my full name when she’s trying to get under my skin. But two can play that game. “I don’t snore, Georgina. Do I?” I tack on, because, in truth, I have no idea. Este’s never mentioned it.
“You do,” Georgie confirms, standing up and crossing the room, just to lounge at the foot of my bed. She hits the button to make me sit up, and I peer down at my arm as I move. It’s in a sling, but it doesn’t hurt.
Because I’m not awake, and this isn’t real. If it were, my dead sister wouldn’t be hanging out in my room.
Her smile is exactly how I remember it. “Hi, Nico.”
“Hi, Georgie.” My voice cracks, and she narrows her eyes.
They’re so similar to Shay’s, just a little darker.
I know Shay remembers them looking almost identical, but they never did to me.
They were like opposite seasons, spring and fall—alike, but different.
Shay feels like the world is winding down, settling, calming.
She’s always been warm and steady. Georgie felt like the start of something.
She always had some new idea or plan she was tackling full steam ahead.
And if something didn’t work out, that was okay, because every day was a fresh start.
“I’m pretty disappointed in you,” she says, flicking her hair over her shoulder. It’s a lighter blonde than Shay’s, and she never did get old enough to find the gray hairs she was always stressing about.
“What did I do now?”
“It’s what you didn’t do. I die—tragically, may I add—and instead of spending the rest of your life going out of your way to tell people how wonderful I was, you shut yourself away! What a waste of a life, Nico.”
“I know.” Hearing how badly I’ve fucked up my life from her lips is worse than anyone else saying it.
“And Shay… I did a lot of potentially stupid things when I was alive: bungee jumping, riding my bike in Paris without a helmet, going home from the pub with that guy I met in London who may or may not have been a serial killer. But I always took comfort in knowing that, if the worst happened, you and Shay would never be alone, because you’d be there for each other. ”
“The worst did happen,” I say, swallowing down the lump in my throat. “And it was my fault.”
“It wasn’t your fault. It was an accident, and no one could’ve done anything to avoid it,” she says firmly. “But it did happen. And you were alone. Because you weren’t there for Shay, and you wouldn’t let her be there for you.”
There’s nothing I can say to justify that, so I don’t bother trying. “I miss you,” I say instead, and Georgie’s eyes crinkle at the sides, the way they always do when she’s emotional.
“I miss you too. The real you. The one you’ve been hiding away for so long.”
I know, logically, that it’s not Georgie. It’s the combination of whatever drugs they’ve given me that makes her feel real. The things she’s saying are my own subconscious speaking. But I’ve missed hearing her voice. And it’s easier to be honest with her than it is with myself.
“I miss him, too,” I admit. “But I think he’s gone.”
Georgie raises an eyebrow. “Really? Because I know someone who would disagree. Someone who thinks you can get better.” She doesn’t have to specify for me to know who she’s talking about, but she wrinkles her nose and adds, “I can’t believe you fell in love with someone who’s only a year older than I am now. ”
Jesus Christ. I really don’t need to think about that. “I didn’t mean to fall for her.”
“Maybe not, but I’m glad you did. It’s the best thing you’ve done since I died. Maybe ever, actually. She saved your life, and I’m not just talking about the axe.”
“So, I am alive? You’re definitely a figment of my imagination, and not here to usher me into the afterlife, right?”
“Right,” she confirms, rolling her eyes. “I’m not ready to spend eternity with your whiny ass. Go live a little. Watch Shay get married to someone she really loves. Spend more than our birthday together and talk about me instead of refusing to say my name. Get your girl. Live happily ever after.”
That sounds… nice. Really nice. Could I actually be okay? Could I let myself have that? Could I learn to believe that maybe I deserve something happy?
“You deserve so much more than just okay, Nico,” Georgie says, reading my mind. “You have two decades of happy to catch up on.”
“But I don’t know how to do that without you.”
She reaches across the bed and holds my good hand in hers. It feels so real. “You’ll see me again someday. I promise. But I’ll kick your ass if you show up in the afterlife and you’ve wasted even more of the time I didn’t get.”
It feels good to laugh with Georgie again. I’ve missed laughing with her.
I blink, wiping the tears from my eyes. But when I try to open them, I can’t. Sleep tugs me under, and I commit Georgie’s last twinkling laugh to memory.
My sister is sitting beside my hospital bed, with a pen in one hand and another tucked behind her ear, scribbling in a notebook.
I try to turn my body toward her, and my shoulder screams in pain. Awake, then.
“Shay.”
She looks up, almost dropping her pen. I watch her gray eyes flood with relief, her shoulders slumping like they’ve been holding up the weight of the world. “Oh, thank god.” She stands and gives me a one-armed hug, in an attempt to avoid my bad side. “You scared the hell out of us.”
Us? Does she mean… “Este? Is she okay?”
She raises a brow, and she’s so like Georgie that I might smile if I weren’t so achy. “Yeah, Este. Whatever happened to ‘I’ll avoid her as much as I can,’ huh?”
I wince. “Things changed.”
“Clearly.” She sighs, sitting back in her chair. “I get it, for the record. I see how she looks at you, and you’ve said her name in your sleep about a hundred times in the past few hours alone, so I assume it’s mutual.”
“It is.”
“Well, I like her. I’m not sorry for being hard on you about it, though.”
I try to laugh, but it hurts, and it ends up more of a grimace. “I don’t blame you.”
Shay frowns at my grimace. “You’re due for more pain medicine soon.
As for Este, there’s a family wing upstairs with some rest areas and showers.
She and Bryan went up there to shower. She refused to leave you, so Bryan made up some story about wanting to shower because the hotel they’re staying at has shitty water pressure to get her to go with him. ”
“Bryan’s here?”
Shay nods. “Mhmm. And Chris and Sloane. And yes, they have all heard you saying Este’s name in your sleep, so I imagine they’re probably going to have some questions for you.”
Suddenly, being impaled with an axe doesn’t seem so bad.
A nurse comes by and helps me to the bathroom.
Like my dream, my left arm is in a sling, and it hurts like hell, but I’m surprisingly steady on my feet.
I manage to splash my face with water and brush my teeth, and by the time I make it back to bed, I’m exhausted.
My muscles are aching like I haven’t used them in weeks.
“How long have I been out?” I ask Shay.
“A little over a day. You’ve actually woken up a few times, but you were really agitated and kept trying to take your sling off, so they sedated you. You don’t remember?”
“No. I remember drifting off for surgery, and then I… I dreamed of Georgie.”
A smile stretches over Shay’s face. “Yeah? How was she?”
“Good. Really good. Told me to get my shit together.”
“Sounds like Georgie,” Shay says. Georgie’s name always sounds so much more natural when she says it. She doesn’t shy away from talking about her as much as I do. “Are you going to listen to her?”
“I’m thinking about it,” I say, and she takes my hand, squeezing it just like Georgie did in my dream.
“Good.”
I hear Este before I see her, and I swear my pain fades a little.
“Dad, please stop fussing so much. I’m fine. I promise I’ll tell you if—oh my god.” She goes still in the doorway when she sees I’m awake, then rushes across the room. “You’re awake. Hi.”
“Hi, angel.” I take her in, and my next breath feels deeper. Her hair is still damp from the shower, and she looks exhausted. Her eyes are worried, red-rimmed with dark circles, and she’s pale. It’s how she looked when she first arrived at the cabin—beautiful but worn out.
“How are you feeling?”
“Sore, but not bad, considering. Thanks to you. How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay.” We both know she’s lying, but I’m not going to push her in front of Shay and… her dad. Shit.
I give her a “we’ll talk about that later” look and turn to Bryan.
“Hey, Bry.” I’ve seen pictures of him over the years, of course, and we’ve video-called, but we’ve both grown up a hell of a lot since I last saw him, so I didn’t expect him to look exactly how I remembered him. He’s hardly aged.
“Hey, man. Bet you didn’t think this is how we’d meet again after so long, huh?” He clasps my good hand and squeezes. “Glad you’re okay.”
“Thanks.”
“Thank you for taking care of our little girl,” he counters.
I miss being sedated.
“Well, I think we can safely say Este took better care of me.”
Este turns away, covering what I’m pretty sure is a laugh with a cough, and I’ve never been more grateful for Shay’s phone as I am when it chimes. She scans it and stands.
“Noelle is here. I’m going to meet her in the cafeteria. You should come, Bryan. I’d love for you to meet her.”
Bryan looks from me to Este and back again, and I can see him trying to put the pieces together, but he doesn’t seem to be quite there yet. Finally, he nods. “Sure. I’ve been looking forward to meeting her. You okay staying with Nico, honey?”
Este promises she is, and we let out matching sighs of relief when Shay closes the door behind them.
“Hi,” Este says, lightly stroking a finger down my cheek.
“Hi, baby.”
“I’ve missed you,” she whispers, then leans in and gently presses her lips to mine.
She feels better than any drug ever could.