Page 26 of Wake Me Up
Right now, Aviana is the only thing that matters, so who really cares what she thinks?
“I’m sure it made Avy’s whole day,” I say sweetly because I know it’s true.
“Oh, we were so glad to see her,” she answers, smiling and waving goodbye, along with her daughter.
Once they turn and walk off—after Nadine looks Tripp over once more—I nod my head toward the door. “Want to come say hello? She loves company.”
Now he looks nervous, but after a sharp swallow, he nods. “Yeah. I’d, uh … I’d really like that.”
“Come on in,” I say softly, smiling at him before I turn toward the door and take a few steps.
I’m too tired mentally, physically, and emotionally to tell my heart to stop fluttering, so I just let it go. I’ll worry about that later.
Looking at Aviana is like looking at a younger version of Freya. She’s the prettiest little girl, and it fucking sucks to see her in this hospital bed. Even though it doesn’t seem to be dimming her shine too much because she’s smiling at me and her mom as we both take a seat.
“Sweetie, Tripp came to see you,” Freya says sweetly. “He wanted to see how you’re feeling.”
“And he brought you a treat too,” Aviana says, not missing a beat whenshe smiles at her mom. Her head whips in my direction, and her grin widens. “Hi, Tripp.”
“Hey, Avy.” I say her nickname because when her brother talks about her, he never calls her Aviana. But once her name leaves my mouth, I’m worried that I shouldn’t have called her that.
It’s probably a family thing. Or worse, it was her dad’s thing, and now here I am, showing up like a jackass with a stuffed animal hedgehog because her brother told me she loves them.
Just carve the wordstalkerinto my fucking head right now.
Awkwardly, I hold the bag out straight, setting it on the bed. “I brought you something. I hope that’s okay.”
My eyes shift nervously to her mom, and I almost cringe because I’m embarrassed. I don’t know this kid. Hell, I barely know her mother, and I brought her a damn tea.
She’s surprised, but her entire face lights up, and she sits up straighter in the bed, taking the bag. She wastes no time pulling the stuffed animal out. “A hedgehog!” she squeals. “I love hedgehogs!”
“That’s what your brother told me,” I say with a chuckle, watching her squeeze the stuffed animal to her chest tightly.
“Thank you, Tripp,” she says sweetly, looking down at it again. “I love it. It almost makes those seizures worth it.” Quickly, she looks at her mom, amusement glimmering in her eyes. “I’m joking. I’m joking.”
“Yeah. You’d better be,” Freya utters, shaking her head at her daughter.
Three people—an older man, a guy who looks like he’s in his late forties, and a woman in scrubs—walk in.
“Dr. Ash,” Freya says. “How’s it looking on us getting out of here today?”
“We’ll try our best,” he says, waving a hand at the lady beside him. “Nurse Jordan is going to take you for another scan. And she even has a stash of candy for after.”
The younger doctor gives me a weird look, narrowing his eyes slightly before quickly looking away. Luckily, Dr. Ash must not watch much hockey because he glances at me, but doesn’t give me a second look as he helps Aviana get out of the bed.
“Do you want me to walk down with you, babe?” Freya says, standing.
“I’m good,” Aviana says swiftly, making her mom roll her eyes.
“That’s just because you don’t want me there to limit your candy intake.” She shakes her head. “I see you, girl.”
Her daughter laughs, following the nurse out of the room, and suddenly, Freya’s face falls, and she grows tense. It’s amazing to me how she can put on a brave face just for her kids, but underneath, she’s still human. Even though she makes it hard to believe that.
He glances at the man beside him. “This is Dr. Blanchard. He’s the neurosurgeon I told you about.”
Freya’s concerned look only grows, but when he holds his hand out, she gives it a shake. Both doctors look at me, and abruptly, Freya goes from looking worried to embarrassed.
“Oh, um … this is Tripp. A … friend of the family,” she says uneasily, clasping her hands together before turning toward Dr. Blanchard. “I thought we were going to do a phone conference with you next week.”
