Mason’s mother sat on the other side of the bed, shooting daggers at me with her eyes. She’d asked for me to be removed from the room, but since I’m his wife and I technically didn’t do anything, or so they al
l thought, I was allowed to stay.
After the police took Shelly away, they’d brought me to the hospital where I’d been given scrubs to wear. Mason’s mom had helped me wash the blood from my hair. That was where her kindness ended.
“Lynn,” she said quietly over Mason’s still body.
“What?” I whispered back, still clutching his hand.
“You should let him go.”
I didn’t even look up at her. I didn’t need to. The tiniest grin tugged at the corners of my lips, but I pushed it back. She wouldn’t appreciate it.
“I couldn’t let him go if I tried.”
Countless stitches and multiple pints of blood later, Mason still wasn’t awake. This morning, they’d done scans to be sure he had brain function. His brain was fine. He just wasn’t ready to wake up. I knew what that felt like.
I was determined to hold on to him. I’d never let him go.
“I wish I’d never introduced him to you,” she said.
His mother had always loved me. In fact, she’d taken on the role of a mother in my life long before I even met Mason. She’d cared for me, taught me, accepted me, and loved me. And now she wished I wasn’t here.
“I do too, most of the time,” I admitted. But now, it was done, and there was no way to undo it.
“When Mason wakes up, I think you two need to have a very serious conversation about the future.”
I nodded, but said nothing. We would. We would talk about everything. I laid a hand on my stomach. No one else knew about the baby. No one would until I could talk to Mason about it.
His mother got up, suddenly looking older than her years. Regret pierced my heart like a dagger, painful and abrupt. “I’m going to get some coffee,” she said.
“Okay.” I stared at him, willing him to wake. But I knew in my heart that he would, as soon as he was good and ready.
She left, and then the door snicked open a few minutes later. I turned to see Malcolm walking toward me. He’d been here most of the time since it happened. He sat in the waiting room while Mason’s mom and I sat by his bedside. Aubrey had been by twice.
“How’s he doing?” Mal whispered as he came over and kissed my forehead.
I reached for the hand he laid on my shoulder and covered it with mine, giving it a squeeze. “Same.”
“How about you?” he asked. He took a seat next to me.
“Same.”
“I’m glad you’re back.”
I yawned. “Me too.” I smiled at him, because it was what he wanted to see.
We sat in silence for a few minutes.
“Hey, Mal,” I finally said.
“Hey, Lynn.” He grinned.
“Do you think you could do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Could you go and check on Shelly?”