Page 31 of The Wedding Hoax

I tried my best to ignore the reaction, to pretend like it’d never even happened. But as the night went on, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

If I didn’t even believe in love, then why did Simone saying she’d never love me make me feel so fucking awful?

12

SIMONE

“You could’ve been nicer at dinner.” I helped my mom into bed, gently placing her against the mattress. “Harry’s responsible for all of this, you know.”

“I’m pretty sure I thanked him for everything, Simi.”

“Yes, but you also made it known how opposed you are to all this.” I sat down in the chair beside her bed. “Seriously, Mom. You don’t need to be so—”

“Concerned about you?”

“So sure that this is going to blow up in my face,” I corrected. “Or somehow end up ruining my life. Or breaking my heart.”

“You’re my daughter. Of course I’m going to worry about you.”

“I know, Mom.” I bent down to kiss her on the forehead. “Just worry about me a little more quietly? We don’t want Harry calling this whole thing off before you even have your first surgery.”

Mom waved a hand between us before she spoke. “Who cares about the surgery? The only thing I care about is your happiness.”

“Oh, you should definitely care about the surgery. Especially because I’ve already got you on the books with a spinal fusion specialist.”

“Really?” My mom’s eyes went wide. “You already booked me an appointment?”

“I got it booked on the last day of the honeymoon. We had a few hours during a layover at the airport.”

“And? What do they think?”

“About what?”

“About my chances.” Mom’s voice started to shake. “Do they really think it would work? That I could get back some of my mobility?”

My heart broke for her in that moment. I suddenly remembered the flurry of doctors and surgeons we’d gone to right after the accident, when we were both still mourning my dad. It was a series of disappointments and tears, with doctor after doctor saying recovering her mobility was next to impossible.

But not anymore.

“They think there’s a good chance, yes.” I smiled down at her.

“And what about the side effects? What are the risks?”

“Do you really want to focus on that right now, Mom?”

“I just want to have all the facts.” She pressed. “Is there a chance I could lose the little mobility I have left? What about the number of people who don’t wake up after surgery?”

“Mom!” I groaned, completely unprepared to have a conversation this heavy. “Yes, okay, you’re right. There’s a chance you could lose the rest of your mobility, but it’s extremely unlikely, okay? As in, if that happened, it’s basically medical malpractice and we’ll become multimillionaires overnight.”

“And? What about the people who never wake up?”

“They’re none of your concern.”

“Because?”

“Because you’re never going to meet them. Ever. So, you don’t need to worry about what happened to them tonight.”

“Simi—”

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