Page 23 of Don't Forget Me
She was in a coma.
She could accept that. It was hardly the worst thing that had happened to her, and she trusted the doctors in Gulf City to bring her back to them. They’d saved her life once before.
This was easier than cancer.
Right?
She’d seen all the movies where families were left to wonder if their loved ones could hear them when they were unconscious. Well, this answered that.
No.
Because they weren’t there.
Why here? And why with Nick Jacobs?
Twisting her hair into a bun, she secured it with a hair tie and walked out into the house. Now that she wasn’t so frantic, she could examine it more. It had the bones of the summer home her mom loved, but so much had changed.
Gone was the kitchen her mom called a “character” in their story with drawers that stuck, an oven that once caught fire when she was making pizza, and worn linoleum flooring. The refrigerator used to have a block of wood under one corner her dad put there to keep it from tilting.
Now, it was a stainless-steel monstrosity that made four kinds of ice and even sparkling water.
Fancy white tile replaced the linoleum leading to the large windows. Now those… they didn’t change. They were probably new windows, but the view… A smile curved her lips. Coma or not… this was home.
Evelyn and Owen would love it here. Wiping away a tear leaking from the corner of her eye, she tried to push thoughts of them away, tried not to worry what her accident would do to them.
She’d failed them. Again.
Kids shouldn’t have to spend so much time in hospitals.
Elizabeth’s gaze found Nick sitting in a high-backed wooden chair with a book in his lap.
Stepping out onto the deck—another new addition—she took a tentative step toward him. “So… how long have you owned this place?”
He looked up and closed his book. Elizabeth tried to get a peek at the title, but he set it beside him. “We…” He cleared his throat. “I bought it fifteen years ago.”
She nodded. “From us then.” The day they sold the house was the beginning of all their troubles. They’d needed the money to pay for her mom’s cancer treatments and eventually hers, but it hadn’t gone far enough, leaving them in debt long after her mom died. “This is so surreal.” She shook her head. “I was at the hospital the day after they brought you in.”
His brow creased, and she hurried out the next words. “Not as a fan. I was visiting a friend.”
His expression calmed. “You were in Gulf City?”
“I’ve lived there my entire life. You should have seen the hospital that day. It was ridiculous with the number of reporters swamping the halls.”
He didn’t speak for a long moment. “Do you… know what happened to me?”
“Some. You went to a charity gala and crashed a rental car on the way back.” Her voice trailed off as she gathered the courage to reveal the rest. “The tabloids say you were found with substances in your system. I assumed they meant alcohol.”
He didn’t respond to that, but she hadn’t expected him too. He didn’t know her. They weren’t friends.
“Have you been here the entire time?”
“Ten days.”
“By yourself?” She lowered herself to the deck in front of his chair and hugged her knees to her chest. If she’d woken up in this strange place alone, she didn’t know what she’d have done.
“Until you.”
A smile stretched her lips. “Probably the first time someone not related to me was happy to see me.” He frowned, but she’d meant it as a joke, not some self-pitying plea. “Are you sure, Nick? That we aren’t dead?”
