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She doesn’t remember, she doesn’t remember, she doesn’t remember,had then droned on in his head until he stood in front of her. Trey had missed her, and that feeling almost had him falling to his knees in from of her when he entered that room. Trey had wanted nothing more than for Maybelle to wake up so he could officially meet the girl from his journal. Through all the time that he had known Maybelle in high school he thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever met, quiet and sweet.
Then that last week before graduation he learned that he had never really known the real her and fortunately he got a glimpse of the gorgeous, quirky woman, that had hidden behind a mask of reticent indifference.
In earlier years he had definitely been interested, lured in by the beauty and sweetness of the girl that always stayed out of reach. However, after that preview of her true nature in the last week before the accident and reading the precious journal that had not left his side once in the last year, Trey Turner was infatuated, enamored, captivated, possessed, enraptured andany other big romantic words that could describe how whipped he was for Maybelle Mason.
Trey had walked into that room with only one fear, that his Maybelle would be gone. Dread had latched to his heart creating a sporadic uncontrollable rhythm.
He was scared the woman he’d gotten to know every single detail about would be so far hidden behind her mask, or her walls that there would be nothing to do to get her back.
He had clung to the hope that when she woke up, he would be able to persuade her out from behind her walls like he had before. Finally convincing her to stay, but with no memories he feared that part of her was lost.
He was thankfully mistaken.
She was just as beautiful as he remembered, and those damned blue, green eyes ripped the oxygen from his lungs making it almost impossible to properly communicate. The woman in that hospital bed was the words in his journal personified.
She was blunt, assertive, confident, and sofuckingsexy.
He thought he couldn't get enough of her before but now… He was in trouble.
Soon after he and Maybelle were done getting reacquainted his mom came back into the room. Trey and Chelsea invited Maybelle to go home with them, stay with them for the night or however long she would like.
Maybelle had nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders in response then proceeded to ask that before they leave, if she could get something to wear other than the hospital gown that left her ass cheeks exposed.
Trey and his mom could not restrain their hearty laughter in response and with that Chelsea left to the nearest clothing venue, which to their luck was a thrift store, to pick her up some clothes she could wear for the drive home.
After many more look overs from Doctor Brown, Maybelle qualified as well enough to leave the hospital and stay with the Turners.
When Chelsea arrived with the clothing she hesitated before handing Maybelle the plastic bag of recently purchased articles, “Now keep in mind, I picked out the first things I saw. This ensemble is an atrocity to fashion, but it will do the job at keeping you modest for the time being.”
Maybelle didn’t ask questions, she quickly dressed in the large black t-shirt with big yellow, bubble letters across the front with some band name, decorated with a drippy, smiley face painted to the front, black gym shorts that hung loose off her hips and bright pink foam flip flops.
Maybelle was looking so goddamned cute; Trey could not keep the grin from his face every time he glanced at her.
“I don’t know Chels, this is fit is pretty stylish in my humble opinion.” Maybelle remarked as she took a seat in her wheeled chariot.
Per requirement of the hospital and the lack of muscle to keep her upright without assistance, they wheeled Maybelle out into the now sunbathed hospital parking lot. For the next couple weeks Maybelle would require their help in moving around as she rebuilt the muscle and mobility in her limbs. A physical therapist would be visiting the Turner home four times a week for the following three weeks to exercise and strengthen Maybelle to get her back on her feet.
Once Trey and Chelsea wheeled her out to Chelsea’s little Corolla in one of the hospital wheelchairs, Trey bent down, wrapped an arm around Maybelle’s waist, lifted and worked to gently lower her into the passenger seat. He noticed the pink blush of her cheeks, his skin mirroring hers and heating up the back of his neck.
Before she could fully be seated in the car Maybelle tripped over her useless feet, but it only took Trey a handful of the waistband of her baggy gym shorts at the hip, to pull her flush against him and have her stabilized again.
Her hand on his shoulder tightened in reply.
Trey shot her a side long glance expecting to see that sassy smirk, but her face was drawn, eyelids wavering, she was already exhausted which caused his chest to stiffen with apprehension. Once she was folded into her seat Maybelle reached over her shoulder for the seat belt, but Trey already had it, pulling and reaching over her to click it into place.
He listened as her breathing hitched; his hands flexed.
Trey crouched outside her door looking at both his mom who now occupied the driver's seat and Maybelle who looked on the edge of falling into a never-ending sleep. His whole body was now rigid and shaky with the anxious thoughts of her sleeping and never waking up.
“Are you alright Maybelle, are you comfortable?” He asked. She carefully moved her head up and down, the slow movements betraying that she might be in pain.
Trey looked to his mom ready to argue that maybe Maybelle should go back inside the hospital, but his mom knew him too well. She wore a comforting smile and mouthed silently, “Breathe, everything is alright.”
Trey heaved a deep, slightly relieving breath.
“Drive safe, I’ll pick us up some food from that bakery across the street from the house and meet you both at home.”
Chelsea nodded still smiling but Maybelle’s head was already propped back against her head rest, her eyes shut.
