Chapter 1 #3
I tell him about the flashbacks I had while in the coma and the ones I’m having now. When I go into detail about my memories of my parents, Max rubs my back and continually kisses my shoulder, comforting me. Then, I tell him about the day I went into foster care. I mentioned I remember Max.
Dr. Wallace tilts his head, his eyes volleying between Max and me.
“Marvelous.” A small smile. “What a remarkable story, you two.” He shines the flashlight in my eyes again.
“Now—it’s rare after so many years to regain memory like this.
It will happen periodically. Something triggers it, a memory surfaces, and you’ll feel it.
We’ll need to run more tests, and I’ll have a neurologist come speak with you.
” He moves to my stitches, humming softly as he inspects each one.
The nurse walks in while the doctor continues to examine me. I take some pain meds and snuggle into Max’s arms. Seconds later, a woman walks in with a tray of food once the nurse and doctor leave. “Thank you,” I say when she leaves it on the table.
“We have so much to talk about, sunshine, but for now, you need to eat and rest. I know you want to talk about your flashbacks and what happened while Daniel had you. You have too much going on in that head of yours. It’s best for you to rest.”
I eat the tasteless food. Max offered to bring me something better to eat, but I declined. I’d rather rest. The medicine softens the edges of everything, and I drift off in Max’s arms.
The beeping pulls me up out of sleep. Cool fingers move across my face, and the tubes come free from my nose. The nurse smiles—the same one from before—and holds out a small paper cup.
“Your oxygen levels are normal. You don’t need this anymore,” the nurse whispers, tossing the plastic tubes into the trash.
I turn to find Max sound asleep, hanging off the bed, one arm draped on my waist. “Your boyfriend hasn’t left your side.
” She smiles. “He’s been so worried. They all have—your friends and family are in the waiting room.
Your friend had to force him out of the room to change and shower. ”
My fingernails brush along his built, tanned skin. Soft snores leave his lips. He looks so innocent, just like he did as a child when he slept. “He’s always been like that. Protective.”
“You’re a lucky woman,” she says, pausing at the door with a wink before disappearing.
I knew from the very first night. Max and Drake walked me to my bedroom, and something about Max cracked me open in the best way. I hadn’t smiled like that in a long time. Solace always finds you when you’ve almost stopped, hoping it will.
He was a knight protecting me from the darkness.
Max took so many of those beatings to protect me, his thin shoulders hunched like a shield.
He was brave beyond belief for a boy his age.
Standing there with his chin lifted and eyes unflinching, his lip split and bruises blooming across his cheekbones.
He never cried—not once—though I’d hear his shallow breathing as I lay next to him.
I didn’t start putting two and two together until I tiptoed downstairs one night and saw him being beaten because of me.
I would hear our foster father shout, “Every time you keep her from me, I’ll beat your ass. ”
Max never told me why he was getting hit. He would just say, “I misbehaved.”
I would frown at that because I had never seen him misbehave.
That night, while he was in bed, catching his breath, I lay next to him and told him what I saw and heard.
Typical of Max to say, “I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re my best friend. Besides, I don’t think your parents would be happy if I didn’t take care of you.” Max gave his signature lazy smile.
Later that night, Drake walked in with a busted lip and a swollen eye. He put cold, wet towels on Max’s back. I remember it being a roadmap of blotchy red marks. He never liked me to see them.
“Rainey.” Max groans next to me. “Shit, I fell asleep. Did I wake you? Or did I take up too much space?”
I shake my head. “No, the nurse woke me when she came in and gave me meds. It seems we slept for four hours.” My voice sounds off with the heart-shattering memories I just recalled.
“I’m glad you slept. How do you feel?” He examines me. “Are you crying? What hurts?”
Oh, my heart, for starters.
“Some memories that I remember I had while I was in and out of consciousness make me teary-eyed.”
“Were they a good, happy memory?”
“No, not happy, but a memory of a strong, amazing boy… Remembering everything is a curse and a blessing.”
Max straightens the messy strands of hair covering my face.
“Sunshine, I understand where you’re coming from.
Those shattering memories in our lives can be soul-crushing, just as they can shape us into the better person we want to become.
They have dragged me through gravel, and they could have sent me straight to hell, baby.
I chose not to let that turn me into a drunk, a drug addict, or a thief.
” He lifts my chin. “My purpose in life fueled the fire in me. You. You were my hope when I was lost.” He kisses the top of my head. “You’ll find yours.”