Page 37 of Harbor (The Wanderers 3)

Chapter 17

Maya woke up to the sensation someone was next to her again. She was getting better at not freaking out every time she opened her eyes though. Reality slid into her consciousness faster each time, reminding her of where she was and what happened to her.

This time, it was Dario who sat next to her. He was smiling, but his brow was furrowed too. “Hey. I didn’t mean to wake you, but I was worried. You’ve been asleep a long time.”

She glanced at the door. It was closed. “How’s the baby?”

Dario grinned. “Perfect. They left a few hours ago.”

“That’s good.”

“How about you? My more important patient.”

“Better. I stood for a few minutes. I didn’t collapse,” she admitted.

“I heard.”

“Stuart’s a rat,” she joked.

“Stuart cares about you.” He hesitated. “We all do.”

She glanced away.

“Advic and Keanu told me what happened with them too.”

“Of course they did. Do you people not have any secrets?”

He hesitated and then took her hand. “Not usually. Probably not when it comes to you.”

“I’m broken,” she informed him, just as she had Advic earlier.

“I know. We all know you’ve been through horrors we can’t even imagine. But maybe you could let us help put you back together?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think it’s possible. I was shattered like a porcelain trinket dropped from ten stories. Some of the pieces are missing. There isn’t enough glue in the world to put me back together.”

He squeezed her hand. “You won’t know if you don’t try.”

“I don’t actually want to know. Ignorance is bliss. I’ve done fine for several years. I rarely think about it. I stuffed that incident into the back of my mind and spend my days making sure nothing like that ever happens to another woman. It’s fulfilling. It’s all I need.”

“You deserve more. If not with us then with someone. It must be lonely traveling all the time with no one to go home to.”

She shrugged. “I have friends.”

“That’s not the same though, is it?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Maybe it would help if you talked about it. Have you ever told anyone what happened?”

She shuddered. “No. God, no.”

“Not even Stuart?”

She shook her head. “No. He knows because he found me. He saw the aftermath. He didn’t need a play-by-play to grasp the details. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be here. He was an amazing friend who sat with me while I healed and encouraged me to keep living. I owe him my life.”

“He’s your friend. You don’t owe him. He doesn’t see it that way.”

“I know,” she whispered.

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