Say You Swear

“So you do know everything that happened with her and him?”

“Why do you think I gave her space in the first place? Why do you think I pulled back?” I don’t give him time to answer. “It was because he suddenly realized what he was losing and knew he had to at least try. It took him months, years really, to see what I saw the minute I met her, and I can’t even fucking blame him, because the fifty-fifty chance is worth the risk if it ends with her in your arms.”

Mason expression twists. “But she chose you, you know that, so why the hell aren’t you at that hospital where you belong?”

“Because fate stepped in and showed his cards, and I’m not even in the deck, let alone at the bottom of it.”

His jaw ticks angrily, and I glance away.

“Do us both a favor and delete our message thread before you give her the new phone.”

“What, no.” His body tugs backward. “Fuck no. Why you acting like shit’s over? Like it’s done and her memory is gone and not coming back?”

I swallow, the possibility too damn real to stomach. “Maybe it is.”

“Don’t make me knock you out, man.” He glares, his fists clenching at his sides. “What the fuck’s the matter with you? My sister is lost right now, and you give up on her? What kind of shit—”

I’ve got him by the collar, his back slammed against the wall behind us in a split second.

“I will never give up on her.” My body shakes. “Ever.”

“Then what the fuck are you doing getting trashed while she’s barely able to fucking breathe?” he seethes.

“I don’t know!” I admit, the muscles in my neck straining. I tear away from him, running my hands on top of my head until I’m gripping my hair. “I don’t fucking know what I’m doing, man. I don’t know shit. I’m fucking terrified that if I go into that room, I might to do or say something that’ll only make this harder on her, hurt her more, and I couldn’t handle that.”

“You think I’m not?” he rasps, and I bring my eyes back to his. “Trust me, I am, we all are, but she needs… I don’t know what she needs, but it ain’t me. Ain’t Cam or the others. It’s got to be you, man. It has to be.”

Shaking my head, I step around him into the room, his shadow following. “She doesn’t remember us, Mason.”

“I know that.”

“Yeah?” I drop onto the edge of the bed, looking up at him. “Do you know how to tell a woman who thinks she’s only ever been with one man, that you are the father of the child she lost?”

As if he hadn’t paused to consider this side of things, my side, the shitty, helpless fucking side, his muscles go limp and he falls into the chair across from me. Mason drops his head back, staring up at the ceiling in defeat, because he gets it now. He knows what I know.

That you can’t.

You. Just. Fucking. Can’t.

Chapter 41

Noah

* * *

A little over twenty minutes of my sitting beside her bedside passes before her eyes begin to flutter open, and I force as much of a smile as I can muster.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Honey, you should have woken me.” She places her palm over mine, and as she gets a better look at me, her face falls. “Noah, no. Is Ari… did she not make —”

“No, no, she’s okay.” I shake my head, my voice hoarse and thick with exhaustion.

“Noah?”

I bite the inside of my cheek, looking away as my eyes begin to cloud.

Outside of being a young boy, my mom has only seen me cry once, and that was the day I came here to tell her about Ari’s accident.

In the eleven days Ari was out, I wouldn’t leave the hospital, but when the doc would make his rounds, asking us to clear the room while he and the nurse ran through her vitals, I’d run over here to see my mom, something I could never do during the football season, and thank fucking god for those few minutes I was forced to step away from my baby’s bedside. If I didn’t have that little time with my mom, I’m not sure what I would have done.

It might have only been for twenty or so minutes at a time, less on days she herself would get too anxious and tell me to hurry back to my girl, but it was the only thing that kept me sane.

But I don’t feel sane anymore.

My mom squeezes my hand, and I drop my chin to my chest, pulling in a full breath.

“She doesn’t remember me, Mom.” I look to her, her face blurry from the mess my eyes threaten to make. “She woke up, but she woke to a world I wasn’t a part of.”