She nods and pulls Liv’s body into her lap.
“Tell her I love her.” I suck in a deep breath, clearing my lungs before filling them again. “Tell her she’s the best thing that ever happened to me, and I wouldn’t trade a minute of my time with her.”
“You tell her,” Serena sobs as she watches me take the first few steps into the river. “You fucking tell her, Logan.”
I want to.
I want to tell her that every fucking night for the rest of my life. Fuck. For the rest of hers.
I want to tell her that when we’re old and gray and teaching our grandkids how to ride horses at the ranch.
But the brightest fires always burn out too damn fast.
“Tell her I chose her.”
LOGAN
It only takes the right person for you to realize your entire life was leading up to them.
—Logan’s Secret Thoughts
“Logan...” Waverly slides behind me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders as I lean against Olivia’s bed. But I don’t want her here. Don’t want any of them here. I don’t fucking deserve it. I’m not sure I’ll ever deserve them again. But even knowing that, I wouldn’t do it differently. Not sure what that says about me. “Look at me.”
“Just go, Waves.” Ican’tlook at her.
“She’s going to wake up, Logan. Scarlet said it’s just a matter of time.”
“How long?” I growl. “It’s been four fucking hours, and she hasn’t woken up yet.”
I drop my head to Liv’s hand. The one I haven’t let go of since she came out of her MRI.
“She has woken up,” Olivia whispers, and my heart skips a fucking beat.
“Liv?” I whisper, scared to say it too loud.
Scared this will all be a dream, and when I wake up, I’ll have lost them both.
She smiles, then winces. “Why does my head feel like one of the horses stomped on it?” Her eyes swing slowly from me to Waverly, then back. “And why am I in the hospital?”
Waverly sucks in a sharp breath, and I know if I looked at my sister right now, I’d find tears streaming down her face.
“What do you remember, Livvy?” I ask, kissing her hand as the weight of the day threatens to crush me.
Her eyes struggle to focus until they stop and stare, locked in a horror I wish I could take away.
The fight.
The accident.
Everything after?—
“I’m going to let your parents know you’re awake,” Waverly tells her, wiping at her cheeks before letting herself out of the dark room.
“We were in an accident,” she whispers. “Oh God, how long have I been out?”
“Four hours.” My words catch in my throat. “But you’re awake now, and that’s all that matters. You have a concussion the doctors want to monitor overnight, but they said I could take you home in the morning.”
Home . . .
