Her body ached, but worse was the confusion clouding her head. Her brain refused to process the idea that—for the foreseeable future—she couldn’t surf. Not train. Not compete. Not move the way her body had always known how to move. She felt like her body had betrayed her, like the ocean had turned its shoulder to her.
She lay in bed in one of those sterile rooms in the downtown Oahu’s medical center, her arm immobilized in a sling, her feet and left arm still bandaged. She barely registered the TV flickering above or the beautiful landscape of the ocean sparkling in the sun outside the window. Carlos had gone back to the hotel to shower and change. Ilias and Amira had returned to the competition in North Shore once she’d convinced them she wasn’t dying. She had smiled, joked, told them she’d trained for wipeouts like this. She tried to convince them she was fine. But in reality, every night since the accident, she drowned all over again. Every night she woke up choking on air, coughing, convinced she was still underwater.
The ocean had never betrayed her like this. She had been too cocky, too sure. And Mother Nature had punished her.
Thank you, Mother Nature. Lesson learned.
A knock pulled her from her spiral, which had beennonstop since she had woken up in that hospital. Mostly, she worried about her family, who had always relied on her for the big chunk of money. Carlos primarily, who had stopped competing professionally to train her. He had sacrificed his career for her, and now, her season had ended right before starting, and the idea she won’t be able to surf again made panic swell even more in her chest.
“Miss López?” A nurse peeked in.
“Yes?” Alejandra blinked, forcing a smile.
“There’s a package for you.” The nurse walked in, carrying a sealed cardbox.
“Where’s it from?” Alejandra asked, trying to sit upright with her good arm, a groan escaping her lips.
“No idea. But it’s heavy.” She set it down gently on the table, and helped her up.
“Gracias,” Alejandra murmured. “Could you open it for me?”
The nurse nodded, smiling fondly as she dove a key into the cracks to unseal it. Her eyes scanned the label.
A UK stamp.
Probably Sofia, still stuck in nerdland.
Together they peeled it open and her head tilted, her frown deepened as she took in what was inside.
A hardcover copy of the latest Maia Solo’s romance. A special edition, nonetheless. The new Cleo Torrente romantasy she’d meant to buy. British chocolate and cookies and—
“Do you need anything more, Miss López?”
“No, it’s fine. I can handle it myself with the good hand.” Alejandra smiled, returning to frown down to a book called The Mabinogion. Looking back at the back cover, it resulted it was a modern translation of eleven medieval Welsh tales. It was filled with shape-shifting royals, tragic wars, and supernatural curses. It made her want to drop everything else and start reading it.
Everything was accompanied with a small, folded note.
“I know we said no contact, but you scared me. I really hope this helps you feel a little better before flying home. I’m glad you’re okay. – Callum.”
“What’s that?” Carlos’s voice made her jump. The note fluttered to the floor as the movement flared pain in her left shoulder. She needed to call back the nurse for more morphine.
“You scared the shit out of me.”
“You were smiling like an idiot. Who sent you that?”
Her mouth hung open for a split second because she hadn’t told him the full story. Carlos just knew that she’d hooked up with one of the nerds at the wedding. Nothing else. Certainly, she hadn’t mentioned that the sex had been life-altering or that she still dreamed of Callum’s voice in the back of her head.
“No idea.”
“Bullshit.” He grinned, leaning in to grab the note that had been lying on the ground since she couldn’t bend down anyways.
“Wait, give it to me. What about privacy?”
“There’s no privacy when you have siblings.” He smirked, eyes scanning the message. “Callum? Isn’t one of the nerd trio?” Carlos frowned. “Is he the one you hooked up with at Sofia’s wedding?”
Alejandra sighed.
“The nerd is smitten with you, huh? No contact? Really, Ale?” Carlos continued his inquiry.
