Chapter 27 I PROMISE
I PROMISE
HUNTER
Me: I’m so sorry.
I stare at the message I sent to Madison until the screen dims and locks itself. My heart hasn’t stopped hammering since the moment I woke this morning. Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I tip my head toward the sky, dragging in a breath of warm air as heat already clings to my skin.
She would have loved the sunrise this morning. All the deep oranges bleeding into yellow, streaking the sky like it’s on fire. She would have made me stand there and watch until the colours faded and the blue took over.
A warm hand brushes my elbow, pulling me back.
“Momma Claire.”
“Hi, Hunter.” Her smile is soft and tired. “You look and smell better.”
A weak chuckle slips from me. “I’m sorry for how I acted yesterday. I was—”
She shakes her head before I can finish. “You watched the love of your life fall and didn’t know if she was going to survive. There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Her gaze sharpens as she looks me up and down. “Are you okay?”
“Honestly?”
She nods.
“No.” The word tumbles out rough and raw. “I’m fucking riddled with worry and guilt. I need her to wake up.” My jaw tightens. “I need the chance to make things right.”
“You’ll get your chance.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because she has you in her corner. Her friends. Everyone in this town. With all our strength and love, she’ll pull through.”
I swallow, fingers tingling as the weight on my chest eases slightly. “Everyone stayed over last night. They, uh… helped me see that, too. That we have to be strong together. I even managed to do something I’ve been avoiding, something that will make her happy.”
“The letters?” Claire raises a knowing brow.
“How did you know about them?”
“My daughter tells me everything. She’ll be so proud of you. Now, you do have to be strong for her, but you also have to prepare yourself for a long road ahead. Can you do that for me?”
“I’m going to do my best,” I promise. “She’s my whole world, and I won’t ever take another second for granted.”
“Good. Now come on, let’s go see our girl.”
The ache is still there, still loud, but I don’t feel hollow like before. I gaze up at the hospital sign as the doors slide open and roll my shoulders, breathing through the fear, through the what-ifs clawing at the back of my mind.
She’s still here. Still fighting.
“Can you explain to me again what’s happening?” I ask quietly as we walk through the halls.
Claire links her arm with mine, slowing her steps. “Of course. You know she hit her head when she fell?”
I nod, my stomach twisting as the image of her slipping, falling, disappearing beneath the water flashes behind my eyes.
“There’s a small fracture in her skull, and some bleeding beneath it. That bleed put pressure on her brain, which is why she needed surgery. To stop it and give her brain room to heal.”
Nausea rolls through me, but I make myself listen.
“She also bruised her lungs when she hit the rocks and the water,” she continues. “That’s why she’s on oxygen and why they’re keeping her asleep for now. Her body needs rest. Her brain needs time to heal.”
“How long?” I ask.
“We’re hoping she wakes sooner than we expect. It could be a few days. Five at the most. Everyone heals differently, so while we hope for the best, we expect the worst.”
“Is there anything else?”
“Cuts, bruises, a broken leg,” she says.
“It’ll be painful and frustrating for her when she wakes up.
None of that is life-threatening. The head injury is what we’re watching closely.
Thankfully, she was pulled from the water quickly and rushed here.
The doctors were able to stop the bleed before any serious damage could be done. ”
“That’s a lot,” I say, my chest aching.
“It is.” Claire slows, turning to face me. “Are you prepared to go in there? It can be confronting at first. But she’s stable. She’s alive, and she’s strong.” Her gaze softens. “Having you there, talking to her, it’ll help.”
“Y-yes. I swear I’m better today. I’m here for her.”
“Good,” she says quietly. “That’s good.”
With one squeeze of my arm, she lets go and steps inside first.
Cautiously, I follow her.
The lights in here are dimmer than the hallway, morning sun spilling through half-open blinds, casting the room in pale gold. The air smells sharp and clean, disinfectant catching in my nose. Machines hum, and a quiet, steady beep breaks through the heavy silence.
I stop inside the doorway, inhaling sharply.
Clear tubing curves beneath her nose, held in place by a strip of tape against her cheek.
Her chest rises and falls gently with the soft hiss of oxygen.
A bandage is wrapped around her head, tucked beneath her hair, and one leg is elevated in a cast. Her hands rest loose at her sides, fingers still.
Fuck, I did this.
“Come, sit.” Claire pulls a chair closer to the bed.
Lowering myself onto the chair, my eyes scan her, and my heart cracks. All the tension I’ve been holding finally gives, spilling out in a quiet sob as I reach for her hand, thumb brushing over her soft skin.
Claire’s hand drifts over my back in slow, comforting strokes, grounding me. I let myself lean into it for a few seconds, allowing the ache to settle. She would want me to be strong.
“Can she have flowers in here?” I ask, glancing around the too clinical, too cold room.
She shakes her head, a sad smile tugging at her mouth. “No, not on this ward.”
I nod in understanding, making a mental note to fill the house with flowers for her when she can come home.
“Can she hear me?”
Claire leans in, pressing a light kiss to Madison’s forehead, her eyes tender. “We don’t know for sure,” she says. “But I believe she can. I believe it’s worth talking to her.”
Okay. Talking. I can do that. I’ll talk her ear off so much, she’ll want to wake up just to tell me to shut up.
“Will you be okay here alone?” Claire asks as she steps back from the bed. “I have a few patients of my own I have to go see.”
“You’re still working?”
She shrugs. “I like staying busy. Helps with the worry. The nurses here will page me if I’m needed.”
The door clicks shut behind her.
“Okay, baby girl,” I whisper. “It’s just you and me now.” I take a shuddering breath, my fingers tightening around hers. “I’m going to need you to wake up. Please. Can you do that for me, for all of us? Please wake up.”
Nothing.
The soft hiss of oxygen.
That steady beep.
The slow rise and fall of her chest.
“I’m sitting here watching you sleep.” I pause, rolling my lips. “Fuck. That sounds kind of creepy, doesn’t it?”
Seconds stretch.
“Madi, I’m so, so sorry.” My voice cracks. “I should have reached for you a second sooner. Maybe I could have grabbed your hand and pulled you back in time if I had.”
My forehead drops to the edge of the bed. I breathe in, then out, again and again, trying to control the storm tearing through my chest.
“I promise…” I swallow hard, the lump in my throat burning. “When you wake up, I’m going to make things right. No more wasting time. No more holding onto the past.”
My hand squeezes hers gently.
“This was always my plan, baby girl. I had those letters stuffed in my bag that morning. I was ready to jump with you. I was going to say it all after you—rightfully—handed my ass to me. I was going to tell you I agreed. That I was there to catch you. To prove it.”
I shake my head.
“I was going to give Halle her letters right after. Then the dirt shifted. The cliff fucking moved, and my whole future flashed in front of me.”
Leaning in, my fingers trail over her cheek.
“I don’t have a future without you in it. I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving that. Proving you’re my world. My life. If you forgive me… we’re going to build something epic together. I promise you.”
A thud breaks the silence.
My head snaps up.
Halle stands in the doorway, a bag dropped at her feet, Asher behind her, his glare locked on me.
“What letters?”