Olivia’s right. Perhaps I do have PTSD.
“I’ll love you forever, Nova,” I whisper and stand. Reaching inside my jacket, I pull out a note I wrote earlier and set it on her nightstand. “I need time… I need to fix me. I’m so, so sorry.”
I must’ve slept like the dead.
That’s the first thought in my head as I blink my eyes open, wincing at the cold daylight streaming in from the windows.
Then I feel it—the pain in my muscles—no doubt from overexertion. Fighting the current and swimming with an unconscious man in my arms will do that to you. I was lucky to come across a detached buoy. Otherwise, I don’t know how I could’ve held onto Ethan and still made it to safety.
But you did it, Lexy. You saved him. You got over your fear!I bite back a smile.I kicked ass.
“You’re awake.” Taylor hovers over me, her forehead pinched with concern. Behind her, I see Millie, Belle, and Olivia.
“How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?” Millie asks, her blue eyes rovingover me.
“I’m fine. Sleeping really helped. I’ve never been so tired.” Slowly, I sit up and wince as pain sizzles up my right leg. Dammit. More physical therapy in the future.
“Maxwell and the boys were here earlier, but I sent them home. Even your high school friend, Sandra, dropped by.” She motions to the small bouquet on my nightstand, a small card tucked within.
Get well soon. The Lexy I knew back at Broadbent was a badass—and she still is today.
Sandra
A bittersweet smile tilts my lips. Oddly, seeing her flowers by my hospital bed feels like closure. The world moved on while I was in a coma—we’ve both changed and so has our friendship.
But that’s okay. Because I love what I have now.
“I should call them and let them know you’re awake.” Belle wraps me in her arms. “I agree with Sandra. You’re a badass, just like Tay.” She looks at my best friend, who’s still fussing over my blankets.
The goth ballerina has the warmest heart.
“How’s Ethan?” I sit up, wanting to check on him.
I saw him after they sewed him up and told me he was okay. He was resting when I headed back into my room, exhausted to my bones.
The girls exchange a glance, and Olivia gives me a strained smile. “I think he needs some time to process everything. This was a lot for him, especially with what happened back then when you were…”
Her voice trails off, but I know what she’s going to say.
Coma. When I was in a coma.
He must blame himself. He must be worried sick about me.
My heart clenches as I relive the horrible moments of the man I love throwing himself between a bullet and me.
I’ll die before I let anything happen to you.
His fervent vow.
I almost lost him.
“I want to see him.” I need to hold him, to kiss him, to feel his strong arms around me.
“He discharged himself a few hours ago. He left you a note.” Olivia motions to the folded paper on my nightstand.
Unease seeps inside me as I unfold his note.
My Dearest Nova,