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The tension in the room immediately leapfrogs to insane levels. I can feel my parents’ eyes on me, and I knowlawsuitis flashing in their minds in huge red letters.
“Owen has already been discharged. Besides the broken arm and being sore, everything else looks good,” Sutton says, his eyes still on me. “Now, we just need to get Felicity feeling better.”
My heart warms with his words. Does he really not blame me for the accident?
I blame me enough for both of us.
“Thank you,” my mom says. “And thank you for looking out for her until we got here. We can take it from here.”
Sutton’s mouth opens to respond, and I smile at him and Owen.
“You should get this boy home. It’s past his bedtime,” I say. “Come here, one more hug.” I hold my hand out to Owen and he’s there in seconds, his hair tickling my neck as he leans in.
I’m surprised when Sutton steps closer after Owen moves, and his head lowers to kiss me on the cheek.
“Call me if you need anything at all, no matter the hour,” he says in my ear. “Ihateleaving you.” He straightens and says louder, “My brother’s promised to watch you like a hawk.” His smile is sad, and he lingers near my side for a few moments before stepping back. “We’ll come back to check on you in the morning.”
“Thanks for everything,” Dad says, shaking Sutton’s hand.
“Yes, thank you.” My mom hovers near Sutton before sitting on the edge of the chair by my bed. “You’re a busy man. Too busy to be here in the morning, I’m sure. We can send an update if there are any changes,” she says.
“I’m not too busy,” he says. His eyes flash to mine again before he nods politely to my parents and leads Owen to the door. “Good night.”
“Good night,” my parents echo.
“Night, Felicity,” Owen says.
“Night, Ace. I love you.”
“I love you too.” Owen smiles at my parents and he and Sutton walk out the door.
I miss them as soon as they’re gone, but my parents visibly relax when they leave.
“How are you really doing?” Mom asks.
“I’m pretty sore.”
She snorts. “For you and Weston, ‘pretty sore’ means you’re in bad shape. Do you have any idea how much Olivia would be milking this?”
I laugh and shake my head, regretting it instantly. My eyes close to see if that curbs the dizziness. “I have some idea, yes.” I open my eyes and squint at her. “I’ll be fine. You don’t have to stay. Get some sleep. I’m sure I’ll be released tomorrow.”
They both let out a sound of surprise or frustration, I can’t tell which.
“We’re not going anywhere,” Dad says.
“And you’re coming home with us.”
Again, I turn my head too fast. “No, that won’t be necessary, I?—”
“You are going to need time to recover from the concussion,” Mom cuts in. “The broken arm will slow you down too, but the concussion is the most concerning.”
“My doctor—Wyatt, remember you met him at the game?—he’ll let us know if there’s anything to be worried about after he gets the results of the tests. Until then, let’s not jump to any conclusions, okay?”
“Is this really the best place to receive care?” Dad huffs. “You should’ve been airlifted to Denver.”
I groan. “No, Dad, I shouldn’t have been. This is an excellent hospital. They’ve been very thorough.”
“Well, no matter what the doctor says, you need to let us take care of you. Work will have to wait, your health is most important,” my mom says firmly.
