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“Nova, oh, thank god.” Kissing the tips of her fingers, I lick a tear from my top lip. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you.”
“Slow down, Hotshot.” She shifts, trying to sit up.
I stand, holding her shoulder down. “No, don’t sit up. Your body needs to recover.”
She winces, not fighting me. “What happened?”
“Tara.” When nothing registers on her face, I continue, “She broke into the house. You don’t remember?”
With a subtle shake of her head, Nova’s eyes close. “I remember going into the bathroom to turn on the shower, but then there was a sharp pain in my chest, and I remember going down, but I don’t remember anything after that.”
Stroking her hair away from her forehead, I kiss her brow. “You hit your head pretty hard on the tub.”
Her hand reaches for the butterfly bandage on her bruised temple. “And Tara?”
“She’s dead.”
Eyes wide, she gasps. “Are you okay? Did she hurt you?”
“No, Nov. I’m fine.” I lower back to my seat, curling Nova’s palm around my cheek, seeking comfort in her warmth. “She didn’t get to me.”
“What happened to her?”
“Let’s talk about it later.” Pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist, I squeeze her fingers. “You need to rest.”
She nods, her eyes shutting once more before flying open. “What about my parents? Have you told them what happened?”
“They’ll be here before noon tomorrow. Your mom booked the earliest flight she could find.”
She calms, her breathing labored. “Okay.”
I clasp her hand in both of mine. “And Leo’s been here all night. He’s in the waiting room now. You gave us quite a scare.”
“Good ol‘ Leopold.” Her mouth twitches with a soft smile.
“I love you, Nova. I’m so sorry I didn’t keep you safe. We should’ve been more diligent about Tara, confirming she was in the facility—”
“Dev, hey. No. Stop.” She tightens her hold around my fingers, bringing our hands to her chest. “The woman was mentally unstable. I’m alive because of you. You saved me.”
“You shouldn’t have needed saving.”
Her head shakes. “We’re not going to do that. The blame does not fall on you. I’m here. You’re here. That’s all that matters.”
fifty-six | nova
TWO MONTHS LATER
With Devin makinghis Opening Day debut with the Sharks tomorrow, almost everyone flew into town late this afternoon. My parents and siblings. Willa’s family and Sharon. Even my aunts, uncles and cousins made the trip. Since Devin won’t have much time to spend with them, we planned a pregame dinner party at our house—the first time anyone’s seen the place. And the first time we’ve all been together since the attack.
“You’ve been feeling okay still?” Uncle Cole asks, pulling me in for a side hug.
I can’t help but laugh. “You know I have. You saw my files, and you call weekly.” I kiss his smooth cheek, grateful for his medical advice during those first few days of recovery. Devin had Cole on the line every time I winced.
He pats my cheek. “It could have been worse, sweet girl. I just worry about you.”
He’s right. It could have been. We have much to celebrate. Life. Family. Baseball. While Devin’s played in the big leagues, something about this time feels more significant. Maybe it’s that we’re able to revel in it together. A full season with the Sharks, more permanency, even if unpredictable. I’m just so damn proud of him.
Under the branches of one of the ivy-covered oak trees, Devin set up two long tables, which I arranged with place settings for twenty-five. Strings of hanging bulbs illuminate the backyard, dangling from the tree limbs and twinkle lights wrapping the palms. It’s my first dinner party, and I’m impressed with us for putting together something so magazine-worthy. I didn’t know I had it in me.
