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Trent isn’t evil.
He doesn’t get a free pass either.
He needs to grovel—to be held accountable for his actions—but there is beauty in life’s shades of gray. I’m willing to let him show me his.
His good qualities replace the other stuff I dwelled on.
And that’s a problem as I try to add to my list but find myself starting a new one. A list of reasons I should want Trent.
It is scary long.
Those butterflies he gives me.
The way his fingers feel when they touch me.
I almost died, but when he touches me, looks at me deep in my eyes, I feel alive. As if he sees me, too. If that doesn’t mean something, I don’t know what does.
The fact that I miss him right now means something, too.
I want him to come back, sit on my bed, and finish what he started.
If I told Heather the crazy thoughts running through my head, she’d try to convince me to check myself into a hospital because I’m obviously still suffering from the concussion I sustained when I was run over.
She’d say I am still confused.
But she doesn’t know him.
She didn’t see him with Henry.
She didn’t see him at Cresthill.
She didn’t see the way he makes everyone smile.
How contagious his laughter is.
How he makes me smile—even under these circumstances.
I stare at the door, willing Trent to come back.
There’s something between Trent Aldridge and me. I’m finally ready. I’m not scared to see what it is. Naturally, with my amazing luck, he isn’t here when I come to the realization.
Hours pass.
There is literally nothing for me to do.
Yes, there is a TV in the room, but I can’t binge-watch Netflix right now. The screen makes my head throb.
It hurts to read.
It hurts to watch.
And not to be rude, but I really don’t like the nurse.
Okay, fine . . .
It’s not the nurse. She seems kind.
I just want Trent.
