Fall Into You (Morally Gray, #2)(89)

I only recognize him because of his hands, lying still on the bed, and his father, who’s seated in a chair beside him.

Cole’s head has been shaved. A ragged black line of stitches snakes down the left side of his face, temple to jaw. A tube is stuck down his throat and held in place by wide strips of white tape that stand out vividly against the mottled purple-and-blue bruising on his skin.

A machine is breathing for him.

I must make a cry of distress, because Konrad glances up and sees me standing out in the hallway staring in.

Our eyes meet.

His are hopeless and shining with tears.

My legs give out, but the doctor catches me before I fall. The last thing I see as the door swings closed behind him is Cole’s father as he drops his head into his hands and starts to cry.





Shay





The next morning, after my doctor has a quiet conversation with my parents outside in the hall, I’m moved out of critical care to a regular room on a different floor. I hold my mother’s hand as a nurse wheels my bed down the hallway and onto the elevator.

No one will tell me anything about Cole.

Not the doctor who came out of his room last night, not Dr. Dayan or the nurses, and not my parents, who take turns sitting with me while the other goes on a break.

My father’s wife, Chloe, stayed in Oregon to look after their two dogs. He seems lost without her. My mother, on the other hand, is doing remarkably well.

“Don’t you think that nurse is cute?” she says to me once I’m settled in the new room and the nurse in question is gone. “I’ve never seen such big muscles on a man. I suppose his job takes a lot of strength, though, lifting unconscious people and whatnot.”

She sits on the ugly plastic chair next to the nightstand, removes knitting needles and yarn from her big lumpy purse, and starts to knit, chatting brightly as she works on something that could be a pot holder when it grows up. Right now, it’s the size of a coaster.

“That ICU doctor was cute too. Dayan. Very handsome. Do you think he’s Armenian? I had an Armenian boyfriend once, though not nearly as handsome as this one. Nice head of hair, though.”

“Mom.”

“Your father looks well, doesn’t he? Needs a haircut. I suppose that Zoe of his likes it long, her being a hippie and all. Can you imagine being raised in a commune? So strange. I have no idea what he sees in her. Maybe she sneaks pot gummies into his breakfast cereal.”

“Mom.”

“You’ll be happy to hear that I’m still not drinking, honey. And not a peep from Bob. Good riddance to that crabby bastard, right? I can’t believe how long I stayed with him.”

“Mom!”

Startled by my volume, she finally looks up at me. “Yes, honey?”

“You talked to Dr. Dayan about me this morning, right? Before they moved me?”

“Yes.”

“What did he say?”

She lays the knitting on her lap and considers me. “That I shouldn’t tell you too much until you’re stronger because we don’t want to upset you.”

I close my eyes and count to ten, resisting the urge to scream. “That’s stupid.”

“Which is what I told him. Your father agreed with the doctor, but he’s on pot gummies, so we’re not listening to him either. What do you want to know?”

“What were the results of the brain scan?”

“The swelling has resolved. There’s no hemorrhaging. You might have some short-term memory problems because of the drugs they gave you, but that should resolve too.”

Should not will. I’ll worry about that later.

“What else?”

“Your bruising will last a few weeks most likely. You might be sore for a while longer than that. But overall, you’re extremely lucky.” Her voice drops. “That crash could’ve easily killed you.”

“When can I go home?”

“Tomorrow or the next day.”

“Good. And what’s happening with Cole?”

She glances down at her hands. She runs her tongue over her teeth. Then she looks up at me again and exhales heavily.

“He’ll make it. But they don’t think he’ll walk again.”

I turn my head and look at the ceiling.

It’s not until my mother jumps from her chair and hugs me tightly that I realize I’m sobbing.

“It’s okay, honey. Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.”

But she misunderstands. She thinks I’m crying because my boss won’t walk again.

I’m not.

I’m crying because the man I’m in love with is going to live.





Later that day, Cole’s father visits me.

He introduces himself to my father, who’s reading the newspaper. Dad stands and they shake hands, then Konrad asks if it’s all right if he has a word alone with me.

When Dad looks at me, I nod.

“Okay. I’ll be back in a while.” He leaves, quietly closing the door behind him, and Konrad stands at the edge of my bed looking down at me.

I know I look awful. My hair is greasy, my face is bruised, and I reek of sweat and disinfectant. None of that matters, however. I could be missing all my teeth, and I’d still be desperate to talk to him.