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“She has a broken ankle and a concussion, but she’s safe, too,” I said.
Zio Alfredo nodded. “Good. It’s a miracle you are with us again. You can take as much time off as you need to recover. You look like you’ve been through hell.”
It was a fair statement—I felt like it, too. Not just because of the scrapes and bruises, the dehydration and days walking on end, but because I had a hole in my chest where my heart used to be.
I’d given my heart to Celine and forgotten to take it back before I’d left her behind.
“I’m ready to start working right away,” I said.
Gino and my uncle both frowned at me.
“I’m serious. The sooner I get back into a normal routine, the better.”
The sooner I could keep myself busy and forget about her, the better, but that wasn’t how I would phrase it for them.
“We’ll see,” my uncle said, and we got into the car.
When we pulled off, heading toward the vineyard, I wished I could just go to sleep, but every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face. Not the glamorous, made-up Celine, but the raw, completely natural Celine, her inner beauty shining through.
I opened my eyes again and focused on the Californian landscape passing by instead.
When thunder rumbled in the distance, I stiffened before I realized I was safe and I didn’t need shelter. It was okay—the rain could come.
The nightmare was over.
Why, then, didn’t it feel that way?
25
CELINE
Isatinthecar on the way back to Ava and Noah’s place. My foot was in a cast, and it would take six weeks for my ankle to heal. I had to be on crutches, and I hated it.
It was better than being dead.
I kept telling myself that.
Ava kept tearing up when she talked to me. Noah was quiet, his grip on the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned white.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” Ava asked, turning in her seat. “The kids are staying with Parker and Em for the night, so we can really get you anything you need.”
“I just want a warm bed,” I said. “And maybe lasagna.”
“I can do that,” Ava said, her face lighting up. “What do you think, honey?”
“We can do that,” Noah said, nodding. He kept his eyes trained on the road.
I’d spent four days in hospital. They’d kept me on antibiotics until they were sure my infections were going to be fine, and they’d given me saline to fight dehydration. My head still hurt like a bitch—apparently, I’d had a bad concussion, too. I hadn’t even been aware of it.
The doctors had finally sent me home after I’d fought with them about it. They couldn’t keep me there, and all I’d wanted was to be in my own warm bed.
Lorenzo hadn’t come to see me once the entire time. He hadn’t texted and he didn’t answer my texts or calls, either.
The first few times I’d been terrified he was hurt or worse. When I’d heard from the rescuers that had brought me in that he was already on his way home—they’d come to check on me the next day—I’d realized he wasn’t ignoring me because something was wrong withhim. Something had to be wrong with me.
When I thought about him, my head hurt even more. It ached almost as much as my heart.
When we got home, Ava made a fuss, getting me everything I might need. She got me so many blankets I could build a fort with them. She brought me food, but I didn’t have an appetite, even though I’d asked for it. She brought me iced tea and sparkling water with lemon, she brought me tea and coffee and hot cocoa.
