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“Great. That gives me time to make some stuff for her. Where should I bring it?” I asked.

Deana gave me an address, and I jotted it down on the edge of a takeout menu, then folded it and stuffed it into my pocket.

“This is really kind of you, Finn,” Helen said. “Of course, I’ll pay you for the extra time and work.”

I shook my head. “That’s not necessary. I’m doing it for Wendy.” I looked at Olly. “I’ll see you soon, okay, buddy?”

Olly nodded, and I held out my fist. He bumped it with his, and I smiled. He really was a cute kid.

“Thank you, again,” Deana said.

“It’s not a problem,” I said. “And if you can think of anything else I can do, you know where to find me.”

I headed back toward the kitchen without another look at Helen. I had a feeling she was giving me a knowing look, but I was going to ignore it. Right now, all I wanted to think about was making sure Wendy was going to be alright. I had a long night and morning of cooking ahead of me.

14

WENDY

I stared at the door to my room, willing the doctor to come in and check me over so I could finally get approved to leave. It had only been two days, but I felt like I’d been lying in the hospital for weeks. Hospitals were some of my least favorite places in the world. I hated them. I hated the way they smelled, the lights that always seemed too bright, and the decorations that seemed like whoever had chosen them were trying way too hard to make the surroundings pleasant when they knew no one ever really felt welcomed and comfortable in a hospital.

I was beyond thankful the guys were able to get me there as fast as they did after the accident and that the doctors treated me quickly, but I wasn’t expecting them to tell me I couldn’t just go home. The break in my wrist was complex, and the sprain in my knee was severe. I was also bruised up, and they had some worries about internal injuries, inspiring them to have me stay for observation.

That meant I wasn’t going to get to go home and recover in my own space. On the bright side, it did mean I got to take advantage of the relief of the strong pain medications they offered me without having to worry about things like driving or making clear and coherent decisions.

That only lasted through the first night and part of the next morning. After that, I started getting increasingly anxious to go home. Deana brought Olly to see me, and it just about broke my heart to see him looking at me with so much worry in his little eyes and to not be able to scoop him up and hold him. I just wanted to cuddle him, both to reassure him and to comfort myself.

I was immediately worried about what was going to happen to him when they admitted me into the hospital, but Deana didn’t even blink. Olly would stay with her. She reminded me that she worked from home. It wasn’t like she had to report anywhere to work or could be told by her bosses that she couldn’t have a little boy with her.

She could work with him hanging out at her house, playing and coloring just like he did during the day. And if he needed more attention than that, she wouldn’t think twice about cashing in some of her banked paid time off to focus on taking care of him.

I wanted to argue with her. She shouldn’t have to give up that time for me. But I really wasn’t in a position to tell her no. I needed to know my son was safe, and she was the only person in the world I trusted enough to care for him.

I promised to try to be a good patient and just focus on getting better, but come Wednesday morning, I was very much done. Finally, the door opened, and my doctor walked in. He was looking down at a tablet in his hands, presumably checking over my chart, and when he looked up at me, he offered a reassuring smile.

“How are you feeling this morning, Wendy?” he asked.

“Still like a tree hit me, but better,” I said.

He chuckled. “Well, that’s to be expected. It’s going to be a bit before that wrist and knee are healed up. You’re going to have to take it easy and not push yourself too hard. Remember, damage that you do now could have lasting repercussions for the rest of your life, and you really don’t want to have to deal with that.”

“Does that mean you’re discharging me?” I asked optimistically. “I can go?”

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