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I slip my arms beneath his jacket, holding on tight as if by letting go I’d float away into the ether, never to return.
“Three days before Ritchie died, I visited him for the last time.” I don’t know why I tell him this, but in light of what’s happening, it feels like the time to come clean. Too much he
aviness weighs on me. The only way to lighten the load is to set it free. Something I should have done a long time ago.
“When it was time to go, I drove to Logansville instead of Arrow Creek. I parked outside your house.”
The ministrations of his fingers in my hair help to ground me.
“I know,” he says, after a few moments of silence.
“You did?”
“Not then. I found out the day of your birthday when you were drunkenly rambling to Ritchie’s headstone.”
“Oh. Well, I forgot about that.”
Law chuckles and moves his fingers from my hair to trace my arm. “Why did you bring it up?”
“I just wondered what would have happened. If I’d have come back. Knocked on the door or something.”
His body stills beneath mine. “You can’t think like that,” he says in a gruff voice.
“I’m sorry. I was just thinking about how much I have hurt us. Directly and indirectly from my mistakes.”
“Our mistakes.” His inhale lifts me with the rise and fall with his chest. “I spent years focusing on the what-if’s. We’ve found our way back to each other now. No use in running through imaginary scenarios. It’ll just torture you.”
“You’re right.”
We both fall silent again.
I watch the fish tank across the room, but my eyelids grow heavy. The adrenaline leaks out of me and exhaustion takes its place. I curl into Law’s shoulder, and although I don’t sleep, dream-like images dance behind my eyelids.
Someone shakes me awake.
“Cami. The surgeon is here to see you.”
Jolted, I shoot up from Law’s lap.
“Is she alive?”
That’s the only question that matters. The details can trickle in later, but as long as she’s still breathing, I know we’ll figure them out.
“She’s alive,” he reassures me immediately.
My legs shake with relief.
“Things were touch and go. We had to shock her heart on the table. She’s not out of the woods.”
Law slips an arm around my back, supporting me.
“How bad is it?”
“I won’t lie to you. It’s not good. She had a lot of internal bleeding. We had to remove part of her intestine and her left ovary. She had penetrating trauma to the abdomen from a piece of metal from the car. Her pelvis is fractured, which contributed to the sizeable amount of blood loss. Thankfully, there’s no sign of a head injury. She’s intubated and in a medically induced coma. We have her in ICU.”
Sickness washes over me. “Can I see her?”
The surgeon nods and gives me a sad smile. “You can see her.”
