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“Don’t push it.”
“Okay, I’ll save it for later.” She stepped into the hall. “You’re welcome.”
I remained silent as she shut the door, and for the first time since the day I met Tatiana, I rewound our memories and understood things from her point of view.
ACT 15
BACK THEN
TRAVIS
Chicago, Illinois
“Your sister will struggle to regain motor functions and suffer sustained memory loss for a very long time,” A doctor tells me one morning. “You’ll need to be there for her during every step of this recovery.”
“I will,” I say. “Can you leave me alone with her for a while please?”
“Of course, sir.” He nods. “I’ll be back this evening to go over the methodology of her next surgeries.”
“Wait. When exactly will she be able to skate again?”
“Sir, I…” He shoots me a sympathetic look. “You’ll be lucky if your sisterwalksagain.”
I refuse to believe that and move closer to Penelope. I take out the necklace I’d bought her for today’s occasion, a diamond-encrusted locket with “Congratulations on reaching number 28!” with a picture of her and my mother inside.
Laying it next to her, I press a hand against her forehead. “I’m so sorry, Crown. You’ll still be the winner of twenty-eight championships to me.”
At some point—I’m too fucked up to keep up with the time—Hayden comes into the room and insists I go for a walk.
I begrudgingly accept his advice.
I take the elevator outside and head toward the hospital’s walking trail. I can’t focus on much of anything right now, and I desperately need to talk to my other best friend.
My girlfriend.
Pulling out my phone, I call Tatiana via video chat.
It rings once.
It rings twice.
Her beautiful face appears onscreen seconds later, but she looks unhappy to see me.
She looks like she’s been crying for weeks.
“Hey,” I say. “What’s wrong?”
She doesn’t say anything; she just stares.
“I had a dream that you broke up with me,” I say. “Isn’t that crazy?”
“Ididbreak up with you, Travis.” She lets out a breath. “I told you that days ago.”
“You were here? At the hospital?” My brain is running on vending machine snacks and lousy coffee; I can’t keep anything straight.
“Go take care of Penelope, Travis,” she says, tears falling down her cheeks. “We’ll talk again someday.”
She ends the call, and I wait a few seconds before calling her back.
