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“Mom, why do you think Rori and I don’t come over often?” Stella speaks up. “You’re not even as hard on me as you are on her, and I can barely handle dealing with you.”
“Well, I’m just a horrible mother, I guess,” she says, playing the victim.
“That’s okay, you can improve if you really want to,” I say, winking at Rori.
Someone shows up to take Rori to her CAT scan.
“Do you want me to come with you?” I ask.
“Yes, please.”
“We’re going to leave now,” her mom says. “I’ll be back during the day at some point.”
“Don’t worry about coming back, Mom. I should be out of here by tomorrow night.”
Stella steps forward, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I’m leaving too, sis. Call me when you get home or if you need anything before then.”
“I will.” Rori smiles.
“Why don’t you come back home with your father and me for a few days, so we can take care of you,” Mrs. Russo suggests.
“Yeah, that’s not happening,” I say.
“I’m talking to my daughter, not you.”
“No, thank you, Mom. My home is with Kaiden, and he takes care of me better than anyone,” Rori states, not leaving room for any argument.
Once we’re in the hallway, Rori stretches out her uninjured arm and I envelop her tiny hand in mine. It probably looks a little unorthodox to see someone pushing her in on the stretcher while I walk beside them holding her hand, but I don’t plan to let her out of my sight for the next seventy years. Okay, that’s an exaggeration. I’m sure in time I’ll be able to move on from what happened to her. But for the immediate future while she’s recovering, she’s stuck with me.
When she goes in for her CAT scan, I wait in the hallway and pray for good results. I just want to get her home so we can be alone. I still don’t even know what happened, and I’m not going to ask her while we’re at the hospital. I’ll wait until we’re in a safe space where no one can witness her tears. I’m sure it will be horribly painful and triggering for her to recount it. But I feel a pressing need to know what she went through. Maybe it’s so I can share the burden with her. Or maybe it’s because I want to rip the guy apart with my bare hands.
When she’s wheeled back to the hallway, she takes my hand once more.
“How was it?”
“Easy. I didn’t have to do anything.”
“I bet even your brain is photogenic,” I tease.
She laughs. “No doubt it takes better pictures than my face does.”
Her room is empty when we return and she gingerly repositions herself in the bed. Lowering the covers, I check her legs for bruises or cuts before I pull the sheet and blanket back over them. Thankfully, they look unharmed.
“Thank God we’re alone,” she says, sighing. “I didn’t want anyone else here, but my mom is listed as my emergency contact, so she got called. Of course she and Valentina are joined at the hip.”
“I came as soon as Stella called me.”
“Thank you for everything. For immediately rushing here, for putting my family in its place, for making me feel better, for making me smile through the pain, and one hundred other reasons I can’t think of right now.”
“Well, you’re going to be stuck at home with me for a bit, so I’m sure you’ll have time to list the rest of the reasons for me.” I grin.
“You know, memory loss can be a side effect of a concussion,” she says. “What if I forget who you are?” she teases.
I laugh. “That would never happen. But if it did, I’d keep you as my prisoner and win your heart all over again.”
“That’s oddly romantic.”
I perch on the edge of her bed. “Oddly romantic,” I repeat, as if I’m weighing the words. “That’s how I am when it comes to you.”
