5. Annalise #2
"A week and a half," he answers solemnly. "The first week we didn't know if you would survive. The last few days—when you started waking up for short periods of time—we knew you would survive, we just didn't know what lasting damage there would be."
He draws in a long, deep breath before adding, "I guess we still don't."
"I'm scared," I confess, so quiet he'd miss it if he breathed too loud. "I don't want pity, and I don't think I can handle you or Sasha looking at me like I'm fragile. I can't handle that. I can't take you guys walking on eggshells around me because of the attack…or the baby."
"Never, Lee," he promises, tucking some stray hairs behind my ear. "I could never look at you and see anything other than how incredible you are."
When I smile and nod, but don't say anything else, he adds, "Are you okay on your own for a few minutes so I can figure out dinner? Sasha's been giving you some magical dietary supplement, but I think you're due for some real food. What do you think?"
"I'm not super hungry, but something small would be good."
"Okay. I'll be back soon, but just call me if you need anything," he says, passing me a phone I've never seen before from the nightstand.
"We couldn't find yours, so I bought you a new one. Sasha spelled her voice to match yours for the voice authorization and was able to get your same number assigned to this phone."
"Thank you, Mattey," I say, grabbing it and making a mental note to pay him back later as he walks out.
For a few minutes, I sit in one of the loudest silences I've ever known. All the things I've felt since waking up this morning screaming at me and battling for dominance.
I'm instantly itching to go for a run right now, but I don't have to be a healer to know there is no way my body, or my friends, would support that.
My mind flicks to Sasha and her reaction to the parts I told her and then the miscarriage.
I can't even begin to imagine how she'd handle hearing the other details of the attack.
I picture her crying and horrified, trying and failing to come up with the 'right words' that she would try to find.
It's better for her not to know, no, for anyone to know the full extent of what happened.
Matt has seen me go through so much, but knowing the horrors that will live forever in my mind would only hurt him, and I can't bare doing that any more than I already have.
Unwilling to think about it further and needing a distraction, I power on my new phone and wait for it to load.
I don't even have time to put in my old passcode before it starts shaking in an almost endless vibration, one message notification rolling in after the next.
Once it's finally caught up to the life that's been going on without me, I clear my missed calls—a few from Sasha, and a ton from Matt on the day of the attack.
I have a million messages in the group chat with James, Antonio, Matt, Josh, and Sasha.
First giving Matt and me shit for being late to Bravo's graduation, like the, "If you guys are late because you stopped for snacks and coffee, I'm going to kill you," message from Josh, to the, "Don't harass her!
You wouldn't want to go to an event and watch your sexy ex in a suit all night either," from Sasha, followed by hilarious bickering between her and Antonio about Sasha calling Aiden sexy.
And then an endless stream of messages checking on me since the attack.
Closing out of the group chat, I find several texts from Josh's aunt, Susan, about missing me at graduation and how her and Mike will be back for my Track Gala, assuming I still want them there.
Scrolling through the pictures she sent, I can't help but smile seeing each of my friends walking across the stage, group photos taken throughout the night, a photo of Susan excitedly making a heart for me with her hands, and Mike reluctantly attempting to do the same next to her.
I assume Josh took the photo, and my suspicions are confirmed when the next five photos are of him in selfie mode, making faces at me and then a few blurry pictures of him and Susan laughing as she fights to get her phone back.
I'm wearing an almost painfully big smile until I get to her next message, "I know you're not together anymore, but I thought you might still want to see these. Love you sweet girl!"
A series of photos of Aiden come up next, him walking across the stage, and laughing with other Bravo graduates.
Matt walks in as I stare at a photo of his smiling face, tears slowly rolling down my cheeks.
It's not seeing him happy while I was losing our baby that bothers me—well not entirely. It's the gut punching realization that I don't have a single message from him since the attack.
"Does he know what happened?" I ask, not needing to tell Matt who I'm talking about.
"Apparently word spread through the party quickly that you were injured, but he doesn't know what actually happened.
The official story that went out was that there was a rock slide that took Platt and Web out, and that you barely made it out alive.
" He pauses as I process the first bit, and ignore the last as much as possible.
Thankfully, he doesn't let me stew for long.
"I did try calling him a few times that night and a few more since you've been out, but he didn't answer and hasn't called me back. "
"Am I supposed to tell him?" I ask. "About the baby, I mean."
"That's something only you can decide, Lee," he says, sliding a bowl of noodle soup and crackers on a grilling platter.
Despite my mind being at war on what the right thing to do is, I can't help the choked laugh that breaks free as I read the words engraved into my makeshift dinner tray: Once you get my meat in your mouth, you won't be able to resist swallowing.
The laugh feels wrong—too loud, too alive—but it rips out of me nonetheless, cutting straight through the tension coiled in my chest. For a split second, it’s easier to laugh than to think. Easier than sitting with everything I’m not ready to feel.
"Korr was on a call, and I couldn't find any trays or baking sheets," Matt smiles at me, "But I did find this hidden in the very back of his pantry." His grin grows, and I'm sure he would have picked this one over the other options either way. "Who knew he had a sense of humor?"
"Oh, I'd wager my entire paycheck that this was a gift…I'm thinking brother? Maybe best friend?"
"Or maybe his smoking hot girlfriend has a sense of humor. She'd be like a girl version of me. Great looks, great hair, wanted by all," Matt sighs dreamily.
"Gods help us if you ever find a girl like that," I tease. "And besides, she'd have to be pretty naive to date him," I add, making Matt's eyebrows lift in question.
"He doesn't seem like the loyal and monogamous type," I say, remembering our flirting at the beginning of last year.
"Want me to kill him?" Tyr asks, but I can feel his laughing chuffs coming through.
"If you kill everyone who disgusts or annoys me, the world would be reduced to only a handful of people."
"You say that like that's a bad thing?"
I laugh, but I know he's only partially kidding. My Alpha may be the sweet, loving puppy dog to me, but he really does hate pretty much everyone.
As I eat, Matt keeps me distracted from the problems I know will come back to haunt me far too soon.
He updates me on which duty station each of our friends has been assigned to, tells me stories about the lost and confused Delta recruits on their first day, and rumors of Dean Stevens' apparently cocky son being among their company.
"I might have jokingly told a few recruits that the best way to get an early bond is to give whichever dragon they spot first on the field a giant hug," he confesses, and I'm torn between shock and laughing my ass off.
"Please tell me none of them thought you were serious and actually tried it?"
"Unfortunately, Lorenson caught wind of the rumor and put an end to it before they even went to class," he sighs dramatically.
Stories and rumors fill the air as I sip my soup and try to compartmentalize this new round of trauma like I have so many times before.