5. AVA #2
I pull back and look at our reflection on the TV screen. My eyes are red-rimmed, hair coming loose from its knot.
Lucy, on the other hand, has a look of determination I’ve never been able to achieve.
"You’re right, Lu. He deserves to know. Whether he sticks around is his choice not mine to make for him."
"And if he doesn't?"
"Then I raise my kid the way Mom raised us. Without him."
She’s quiet for a second. "You sound like you're sure he's going to bail."
"He hasn't texted in weeks. I think that decision's already been made."
“Well, if he’s stupid enough to reject you, then he doesn’t deserve you.
It takes me two hours to work up the courage to actually text Kai. Lucy sits on my childhood bed while I compose and delete the message approximately seventeen times.
Every version sounds either unhinged or completely insane. In the end, I settle for simple.
Me:
We need to talk. It's important. Can we meet? Ava.
I hit send before I can overthink it. In less than a minute, the phone rings, Kai’s number on the screen.
"Hello, Kai," I say once I pick up.
"Ava? This is Laura Donovan. Kai's mother," a woman says.
My stomach drops somewhere around my knees.
"I'm so sorry to call you like this," Laura continues, her voice tight. "I saw your message come through on Kai's phone. He's been in the hospital. There was an accident on the ice."
I inhale sharply. "Is he okay?"
"He's stable. He's awake." A pause. "Your message sounded urgent. I didn't want to leave it unanswered. Can I help with anything?”
My blood goes cold.
"Can I come see him?" I ask.
"Of course. I'll text you the address."
The call ends. I stare at the phone in my hand.
He didn't ghost me. He was hurt. He's been hurt this entire time.
"What happened?" Lucy asks.
I tell her.
"I’m going to the hospital tomorrow, but I don't even know what happened. And I don’t know what to tell him—"
"You're going tonight," she cuts in. “Better to go before Laura changes her mind.”
Lucy’s right even though she’s bossy.
I'm in my car an hour later, heading back to LA with Biscuit, my hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel and my brain doing a loop of panic.
The hospital parking garage is a maze of concrete and fluorescent lighting. I take the elevator up with my heart in my throat and my phone clenched in my fist.
The hospital smells of antiseptic.
My skin prickles the second the automatic doors slide open. I've barely been inside a hospital since Lucy broke her arm falling off the Parkers’ fence in middle school.
A woman who can only be Laura Donovan is waiting near the elevator bank, light brown hair pinned neatly back.
It’s obvious Kai inherited his warm brown eyes and strong jaw from her.
"Ava?" she says.
"Yes."
"I'm Kai's mother." She doesn't offer her hand, instead pulling me into a hug that I'm too shocked to reciprocate. "Thank you for coming. We weren't sure you'd come."
"What happened?" I ask, following her down a hallway.
"Kai was hit during the game a few weeks back." She pulls back, keeping her hands on my arms. "He's been in the hospital for nearly five weeks."
The world tilts.
Five weeks.
While I was convincing myself he was a playboy, he was in the hospital.
"Is he okay?"
"He's…stable."
A man who looks like an older, gruffer version of Kai stands in front of a door at the end of the corridor. There's intensity in his dark eyes.
"Charles," Laura says. "This is Ava."
He looks me over once. "You're the one who texted."
"Yeah."
"I'm Kai's father." He uncrosses his arms long enough to shake my hand.
"What exactly did you want to tell him?" Laura asks, squeezing my hand. "You said it was urgent. I don't want to overstep, but if there's something Kai needs to know, something that might help him…"
"It's persona… just work related stuff," I manage, gently prying my hand away from hers.
She steps back. “Of course.”
I try my best not to think they’re crazy. An accident during a hockey game can’t be that bad. Maybe they’re just desperate parents who love their son.
"Can I see him?" I ask.
Laura glances at Charles. Some silent conversation passes between them that I'm not part of. He looks into the room then back at me.
"You can go in for a few minutes."
I step into the room.
It’s dim, blinds drawn against the afternoon light, machines humming their steady rhythm.
A lady, who looks like a younger Laura with dark hair, is sitting by the bed.
“That’s Mira,” Laura says.
“Hi,” Mira says then goes back to staring at the figure on the bed.
It takes me a while to realize the figure propped against pillows and surrounded by machines and tubes is Kai.
He’s emaciated. There’s a bandage wrapped along his hairline. His dark hair is disheveled, his beard rough. His broken nose looks more pronounced against the paleness of his skin.
The hospital lighting is brutal on him, showing every line of exhaustion, every shadow of pain.
My whole body remembers him before my brain finishes processing how he now looks. Even though he’s fragile, he's still beautiful in a way that knocks the air out of me.
I rush to him, place a hand on his cheeks. “Oh, Kai.”
He's supposed to be a mistake. A beautiful, expensive mistake I'm supposed to move past.
He's not supposed to be fragile enough that I want to protect him.
Not supposed to make me want to stay.
His eyes open.
For one suspended second, hot stupid hope detonates in my chest.
Then his brow furrows. He looks at me the way you look at someone you're trying to place at a party. Polite. Searching. Entirely, devastatingly blank.
"I'm sorry," Kai says, his voice rough with disuse. "Have we met?"
I wrench my hand away from his face, stepping back.
The defenses I've spent weeks rebuilding crumble into dust. Foolish tears fill my eyes.
I thought we had a real connection that night. That he’d reject me even though he enjoyed that night. But I was so inconsequential to him that he’s already forgotten me.
He doesn't remember me because to him, I never existed.
And somehow, that's infinitely worse than if he'd rejected me on purpose.