Sweet Nothing (41 page)

I picked at my fingernails, nervous about seeing Quinn. The last time I’d seen him wasn’t the last time he’d seen me, and I wasn’t sure how to greet him. It was confusing trying to decide how well we knew each other.

I thought back to my time in the ER before the crash. Quinn and I had traded a few smart-ass remarks. He’d flirted with me a handful of times until he’d partnered up with Josh. After that, he didn’t speak to me as much. I had to treat him as if we barely knew each other, and that was going to be difficult. Quinn was practically family.

A quiet knock sounded on the door. Deb walked in first, followed by Quinn. He looked nervous, too, and strangely, that made me feel more relaxed.

“Hi,” I said simply.

“Hi, Jacobs,” Quinn said, his voice sad.

“You can call me Avery,” I said.

He was wearing his paramedic uniform, the navy-blue T-shirt and matching cargo pants with boots. I wanted to reach out and hug him, if just to feel that fabric against my skin again, but I continued picking at my nails.

Quinn’s knee bobbed up and down, and he cleared his throat. “I was glad to hear you woke up. Gives me hope for Josh.”

“He’ll wake up,” I said, unsure where the confidence came from.

One corner of Quinn’s mouth twitched. “I heard you had quite the dream.”

“Weird news travels fast.”

“Josh would love to hear that. He was into you. He talked about you a lot before …” Quinn sighed. “I knew he liked you, but … when I rolled up on that wreck—” he shook his head and lifted his hands, pressing against an invisible ball of metal “—your driver’s side hit his driver’s side, and your open windows were welded together. The damnedest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I shouldn’t have pulled out before looking. That was stupid,” I said.

Quinn switched between expressions, unsure of which to use. “He called me from the scene. He sounded confused and out of breath. The last thing I heard him say was
get her
, and
help Jacobs
.”

“He called you? From the scene?”

Quinn nodded. “I called nine-one-one, but I got there a few minutes before they did. I was still at the hospital, trying to score a date with Nikki Liberty.”

I smiled. “She’s pretty.”

Quinn frowned. “When I pulled up, I ran up and had to look through your back window to see you both. His arms were around you, Avery. He held you until he was unconscious. I still can’t figure out how your Prius was thrown back into his car—on that side—in that way. It doesn’t seem physically possible.”

My eyes burned, and I nodded. None of what happened was possible, yet it had happened. All of it.

“So, I think it’s nice that you dreamed of him. I don’t think it’s weird at all. Matter of fact, I bet he’s dreaming of you, too.”

I blinked, letting tears fall for only a second before wiping them quickly away. “Have you heard any news? They won’t tell me anything.”

Quinn sighed. “His dad wanted to try to take him off the ventilator today. He has brain function, but he didn’t do well off the machine. They’re considering how much longer to keep him going.”

“They’re going to pull the plug?” I asked, sitting up.

“They don’t have a lot of money, Avery. Josh had minimal insurance. They’ll keep him alive as long as they can. I know. It makes me furious. The guys have started a fundraiser.”

I bit my lip. Desperate times … “Quinn? Mind if I ask you something incredibly weird?”

“Sure,” he said, amused through his sadness.

“Is your last name Cipriani?”

He nodded.

I looked at Deb. She shrugged. “You could have heard that or seen that, Avery. You know I want to believe you, but that doesn’t prove anything.”

“Doesn’t prove what?” Quinn asked.

“Does your mom make really, really great pie?”

Quinn stiffened, hesitating before he spoke. “She’s Italian. Everything she makes is amazing. Josh loved her pies.”

I breathed out, smiling.

“Avery,” Deb warned.

Quinn narrowed one eye. “What are you trying to say, Avery?”

“It wasn’t a dream, Quinn. I need you to believe me.”

Deb walked over to the opposite side of the bed and touched my shoulder. “Quinn, Avery’s very tired. Maybe you should head out.”

I pushed her hand away. “I can describe your mom’s apartment. I can describe the way her pies taste. I can tell you about Josh’s parents.”

Quinn stood, staring at me as if I were suddenly dangerous. “I don’t know what you’re doing, Avery, but it ain’t right.”

“I know what you’re thinking. I’m not a crazy stalker, Quinn. I’m married to Josh. We spent time together, a lot of time together, and I have memories of things I couldn’t possibly have memories of. It wasn’t a dream. It was another life, and I want to go back.”

“I’m sorry, Avery. You haven’t been to my mom’s house.”

“House?” I asked, swallowing.

“Avery, stop,” Deb begged.

“What do you want me say?” he asked.

“I want you tell Dr. Weaver that you believe me. I want you to convince her to put me back under.”

“Avery!” Deb said.

I looked down, resolute. “Medically induced comas are done all the time. You can sell all of my things and put me in a nursing home.”

“Avery, enough,” Deb said, getting angry.

“He’s probably worried sick about me!” I yelled. “I have to get back to him somehow!”

Quinn took a few steps back, and Parsons rushed in. “Is everything okay in here?”

I looked at Quinn. “You were in love with Deb. You were so happy, Quinn. You were going to ask her to marry you.”

Deb’s face flushed bright red, and she gestured for Parsons to escort Quinn out of the room.

Quinn complied, turning around to look at me once before Parsons closed the door behind them.

Deb shook her head. “Why didn’t you tell me this was your plan? I do a favor for you, and you lie to me?”

“I’m sorry.” I wiped my cheek. “I just have a few days left, and I don’t know how much longer they’ll leave Josh on the ventilator. It was a last-minute decision.”

Deb sat, digging her elbow into my mattress and resting her head in her hand. “Tell me more.”

I sniffed. “Really?”

She nodded, sincere.

“We’d just finished hanging the last painting on the wall of the apartment.”

“Really? I thought you didn’t like to put holes in the walls.”

“Because it didn’t feel like mine. Josh didn’t understand why it made me so happy to watch him hammer holes into the paint.” My breath caught. “Because it was ours. We’d made it into a home.”

Deb nodded, resting her chin in her hand.

“Josh had just finished setting up the crib. He wanted to decorate her nursery in fire and rescue stuff.” I made a face. “So we compromised. Pink and gray firetrucks and ambulances.” I touched my flat stomach. “He was such a proud father. Now he’ll never be able to hold her. I’ll never be able to hold her. I might never be able to hold him.”

“You really love him that much? You’d go back into a coma?”

“This isn’t my life, Deb. I know it sounds absolutely insane.”

“I believe you.”

“You do?”

She nodded. “But you can’t go back. We’ll just have to make sure Josh wakes up.”

“How?” I asked.

She shook her head, her hand pressing against her cheek. “I’ll take you there every day after PT. You talked him into marrying you once. Talk him into waking up.”

It had been ten days since I awoke from what I had thought was my life. Physical therapy was grueling. Even after just seven weeks, lying in bed motionless had made my muscles weak and scrawny, but I was determined to make progress. Every day, my body grew stronger, and even though I aspired to walk out of the hospital with my husband, my will to move forward diminished. My heart was broken. The love I’d felt had been very real.

Deb wheeled me into Josh’s room every day after PT. His body still lay unmoving, a shell of his former self. It was painful to see him so gaunt and weak, but I spoke to him for hours, telling him about our other life, and how we could have it again if he’d only wake up. I held his hand, knowing full well the rumors floating around the hospital, but Dr. Weaver had ordered another round of tests, seeing some change in Josh’s brain activity when I was in the room.

“I will be so glad to be able to take you home and feed you a decent meal.” Aunt Ellen slipped her hand over mine and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You are getting so thin.”

I smiled at her, hoping it looked convincing. I was grateful for her help, and I knew she had spent her savings to be by my side.

“I’d like to see Josh again. Could you tell Deb when she gets back?”

“You’ve spent two hours with him today, sweetheart.”

I tried to hold my smile, feeling I may come undone along my tattered edges if I didn’t get to see his face. The uncertainty in her eyes was obvious.

“I’m getting discharged tomorrow. It’s my last day.”

“So come back when you start your shift,” Aunt Ellen said, tucking my hair behind my ear.

“I won’t be cleared to work for a while. I don’t have a car. I don’t know when I can come back.”

“You’ll find a way.”

Like everyone else, Aunt Ellen didn’t understand. She was hoping I would forget my other life. She thought if I had enough time and space away from him, my love for him and my memories of our marriage would fade away. It wouldn’t.

“I should go now, before lunch,” I said, knowing I was pushing my luck. Aunt Ellen had no doubt heard the whispers around the hospital. “This whole thing is my fault,” I explained. “It only feels right that I offer him some company.”

She reluctantly held out her hand, but I waved it away, pushing myself to my feet. My body was stiff and ached from physical therapy, but nothing compared to the crippling pain in my heart.

My eyes teared as I gripped the handle of the muted silver cane that helped me to keep my balance. Every step was a struggle, but I made my way out of the room and down the hall. Physical therapy was difficult, but it was a relief not to have to depend on anyone else to take me to see Josh.

My chest heaved as I paused in front of Josh’s door to rest.

Quinn stepped out into the hall, pulling the door closed behind him.

“Any change?” I asked, hopeful.

Quinn’s head shook infinitesimally. “Nothing. Not a goddamn thing except for your visits. The second you leave, his brain activity slips right back.”

I looked down at the ridiculous slippers Deb had brought me. Pink bunny heads shook above my toes. “He will,” I choked out before sliding my hand over my cheek to wipe away a stray tear.

“Avery, I should probably tell you something. His dad got in last night.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “He’s decided to…” He took a step forward, pausing when my aunt touched my shoulder.

“Hi, Quinn. Nice to see you again,” Aunt Ellen said.

“Mrs. Collins,” Quinn said, nodding.

“Avery is being discharged in the morning. She’d like to say good-bye to Josh.”

“Not good-bye,” I said.

“Good-bye for now,” Aunt Ellen qualified.

Quinn glanced at her face before swallowing whatever information he was about to offer. “Good luck with your recovery, Avery. I hope to see you back at the hospital very soon.” He turned in the opposite direction, hurrying through the double doors.

Forcing myself to continue, I pressed my palm against Josh’s door, saying a silent prayer before pushing it open. A man was hunched over, sitting in the chair next to Josh’s bed. His head snapped up at the sound of my cane on the floor. When he turned, I saw the essence of a man I’d come to love in my other life.

“Hello, Mr. Avery. I’m Avery … Jacobs,” I stammered, the name sounding foreign.

He pushed from his seat and rounded the foot of the bed, holding out his arms. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I’m glad …” His voice caught in his throat as he struggled to contain his emotions. He pulled me in, and I let him, finally feeling something familiar.