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I need my mum. ‘I do.’
She starts backing out of the room. ‘I’ll send your sister in.’ Then she’s gone from sight, and I have no idea when I’ll see her again.
I love you.
I forgive you.
Hunter
Dawn says an awkward goodbye to Tom and Bridget, then turns to me, nodding once in place of words. She might hate my guts and not want me anywhere near her daughter, but acknowledging my existence feels a lot like progress. I can see she’s either been crying or is trying not to.
Bridget goes to see Annie. Then Tom goes to see her. I’m pacing the room when he returns.
‘She fell asleep while I was in there,’ he says, giving me a sympathetic look. ‘The nurse will let you know when she’s awake.’
Bridget stifles a yawn. ‘Why don’t you both come back to the apartment for a shower and something proper to eat? She’s not going anywhere.’
I can’t leave until I see her. ‘You two go. I’m happy to wait.’
After they leave, I head to the now-open cafe and grab a bacon and egg sandwich with the largest coffee they have.
Two hours pass before a nurse comes to find me. I’m out of my chair, heading down the corridor before she’s finished speaking.
Annie’s sitting up when I enter, propped up by pillows and blending with the linen framing her. Her face and arms are bruised, and there are grazes everywhere. My throat closes involuntarily at the sight. I fucking hate this. It’s a painful reminder of how close I came to losing her.
‘Hey.’ Her voice barely carries the short distance. She searches my face. ‘That bad, huh?’
I force my feet forwards and sit in the chair beside her bed. ‘Is this my fault?’
‘No.’
‘You were crying on the phone.’
She shakes her head. ‘Honestly, this was just a ploy to get you here sooner.’
It’s far too soon for jokes. ‘Well, it worked.’
Her eyes move over my face. ‘You’ve changed. You’re more stubbly.’
I rub my jaw. ‘It has been nearly three years.’
‘It has.’
When she opens her hand to me, I take it, relieved to find it warm. I’ve waited so long to touch her.
She lifts my hand, pressing it to her cheek. Her eyes close. ‘I’ve missed you.’
The burn in my throat is instant.
‘I can say stuff like that and simply blame the morphine,’ she says.
I glance in the direction of the IV pole. ‘Can we turn that shit up?’
She laughs, then winces.
Seeing her in physical pain is a special form of torture. ‘Might be too soon for belly laughs.’
She nods. ‘I think you might be right.’
