“One page at a time.”
She doesn’t move, and I lift the cover, wanting to be brave. Wishing that for just a few minutes I can be the Jessica I was before the crash. The one who was strong, fearless, and ready to handle any situation. This version—the scared girl who wants to hide—isn’t who I want to be.
I can feel the tremors moving through my body, but I use all my effort to focus on the words. I read, doing everything to just say the words without actually hearing them or taking them in. They’re my memories, the dreams that haunt me each night, but I won’t allow them to hurt me.
The words fall from me as I flip pages with shaky hands. I continue speaking, knowing that if I stop, I won’t be able to go again. At some point, there is nothing left on the paper to read.
After a minute, Dr. Warvel reaches out, her hand grasping mine. “Jessica, I need you to look at me.”
I feel cold and numb as tears fall down my face. When my eyes lift to hers, I can barely make out her features, and I turn away. Shame, anger, and frustration at the weakness I feel is too much. I should be over this, Jacob is. He’s happy and enjoying his time with Brenna. Elliot just moved in with his girlfriend, and Jose reconciled with his wife. I’m the only one who is falling apart. Why can they all find a way through this but I’m . . . stuck?
“I can’t,” I confess. I can’t . . . to it all.
“You can. You did great just now. Look at me.” I force myself to meet her gaze again. “You didn’t live it just now, Jess. You told the story that was written on the paper. Each time you can read these words, you’ll find it a little easier, and we’ll see where the holes are, plug them, and keep working. I know you’re frustrated, but you are making progress.”
I wipe away the tears that continue to fall. “I d-don’t feel l-like it.”
She smiles softly and hands me a tissue. “Look at what has happened already. You’ve spoken to Grayson, who was a big part of your original story, and told him you were sorry for what happened all those years ago. You and your mother are spending time together again, and you’re working. Those are not small feats. And the biggest one you still don’t even realize.”
“What’s that?”
“You spoke that entire story with only two errors in your speech.”
“Do you really think this is a good idea?” Winnie asks as she stands in the dressing room, disapproving over every outfit I try on.
“I do.”
She sighs deeply, shaking her head as I turn, trying to show her how it’s not that bad. Sure, it’s a bit plain, but I’m running the front desk, not going to a board meeting.
“I’m not so sure, Jess. You just got back, give yourself some time. Why do you need to work anyway? Isn’t the airline going to have to pay out a ton in settlements?”
That is going to be years down the line. I have savings, but with what I’ve been helping my mother with, that’s going to run out in six months. She barely makes ends meet, so there is no way I would ask her to take care of me financially. The thing is, as much as I need the money, it’s really about working, contributing, and living again.
I don’t want to be dependent on anyone.
“It’s not that simple, and I need to get out.”
“But working for the Parkersons?”
“You love them.”
“I love Stella. And even then, while she may be one of my best friends, I can only take her in small doses. We all know the way her family feels about us.”
Winnie and Stella have been friends since they were kids. They ran in different circles, but were close in their own way. I guess it’s fine for the Parkerson’s daughter to be friends with us but it isn’t okay for one of their sons to marry one of us.
“And here I am—the help.”
“That’s not funny,” Winnie says, grabbing a coat that she likes.
I take it, knowing my sister won’t relent unless I try it on. “It’s the—” I struggle. The words again not forming.
“It’s what?”
I follow the technique, but I can’t get my mouth to cooperate. The words die on my lips. It’s the truth. It’s what I am, and I’m okay with it because it’s them helping me.
I try and try. Angry tears fall down my cheeks, and then I feel the pressure of a headache come on stronger and faster than usual. God, this is going to be horrible.
“Jess?” Winnie steps forward as my hands grip the sides of my head. “Jess? What’s wrong?”
I close my eyes and sink to the floor. “Head,” I rasp the only thing I can say.
My sister closes the door of the dressing room as the pain comes on so fast I don’t have time to prepare for it. The lights are so bright, and each sound feels as though it’s being pushed through an amplifier. The metal hangers scraping, the cart rolling . . . it hurts so much.
“Jess, shhh,” Winnie says, pulling me to her chest. “What do I do?”
“Lights. So much.”
She cloaks me in darkness, wrapping something around me, but I won’t open my eyes to see what it is. I need to calm myself.
“I’m going to tell the manager so I can get you out. Stay here.”
I couldn’t go anywhere if I tried. I need my medicine, darkness, and a few hours of complete silence. Winnie is gone, and I lie on the floor, clutching my skull, hating that the last few days have been amazing and now I’m crippled by the pain.
My doctor says a way to work through them is counting backward. To let the numbers help pass the time until I fall asleep.
I do that. I start at nine hundred ninety-nine and go back. Once I get to four hundred thirty-three, I hear the door open, and instead of Winnie’s voice, it’s deep, male, and familiar.
Before I can say or do anything, I’m lifted off the ground and tucked against Grayson’s chest. God, he smells the same. It’s a combination of fresh air, spice, and sandalwood that I would be able to pick out anywhere.
I stir, but he holds me tighter, his voice quiet. “I have you, Jess. Just relax, I’ll get you home.”
“I have her purse,” Winnie says.
“Daddy?” a small, sweet voice says from beside me. “Is your friend okay?”
“She is,” he whispers. “We have to be very quiet, though, can you do that?”
“Yes,” the little girl whispers back.
I bury my head in his chest, allowing myself to take a small ounce of comfort from him. My head is still pounding, but it isn’t as debilitating as it was seconds ago. I keep counting, not letting go of the monotony of the numbers.
“I’ll take her,” Grayson says.
“What?”
“My car has tinted windows, if it’s light sensitivity that hurts her, your car is the worst.”
Winnie drives a tiny convertible. There is no room to lie down and no hiding from the blinding sun.
“No,” I croak, but Grayson tightens his grip on me.
“Don’t argue, Jess,” he whispers before directing his words to Winnie. “Take Melia’s seat out.” A few seconds pass, and then his voice changes. “Please, Winnie.”
She makes a noise under her breath, but she must agree because a moment later, he settles me in a car. Not sure which one. The door closes, and I curl up on the backseat, no longer caring whose car I’m in, just that I’m lying down.
I can hear my sister outside. “Seriously, she’s going to hate this when she’s better.”
“I have no doubt of that. Can you drive Melia to Stella’s?”
“Stella’s?”
“Yeah, I’ll take Jess back home and stay with her for a bit.”
“Gray that’s not . . .”
“Daddy, can I come with you?” the little girl asks.
“Daddy is going to make sure his friend is okay and doesn’t need to go to the hospital,” he explains.
Jesus. This is not okay. I will be fine, I just need to sleep.
“Is she going to need surgery?”
“No, sweet girl, I just want to make sure she isn’t in pa
in.”
“So, you’ll be there to watch her and make sure?”
“Grayson,” Winnie cuts in again, “this is really not necessary.”
The little girl’s voice is musical as she says, “It’s okay, Winnie. My daddy is a fireman and he saves people. He can help.”
Winnie laughs. “Yes, I guess he does.”
“Do you know his friend?”
“I sure do,” Winnie says. “She’s my sister.”
“I wish I had a sister!”
Someone clears their throat. “You be good for Winnie and Auntie Stella.”
“I will, Daddy. Will I get to play with Auntie?”
“You sure will.”
“Jess is going to be so pissed at us,” Winnie says.
“I’m sure she’ll let me know.”
I count, trying not to focus on their conversation because the pain is throbbing again. I keep the jacket that smells like Grayson over my head, keeping myself in total darkness.
When he gets in, I struggle to say it loud enough so he can hear but not loud enough that it will make the headache worse. “Medicine.”
Grayson is out of the car a moment later. Thankfully he doesn’t close the door, but I hear him yell for Winnie.
After another eighty-three seconds, he returns. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I have water and the pill Winnie got from your purse. Can you sit up to take it?”
I have to. I keep the jacket around my head, opening it just a little. I extend my hand, and he gives me the pill and water bottle. I toss it in my throat and chug the water. He lays me back down carefully before awkwardly buckling me into the seat.
I start counting backward from my starting point again, and I drift off, letting Grayson’s scent surround me and knowing that, when this is over, I’m going to have to bury myself to avoid the embarrassment.
Chapter 6
Jessica
The ache is back, but it’s nothing like it was before. I shift to the side, nestling into my pillow, which causes me to open my eyes, not knowing where I am.
When I do, it all comes back, the pain, the headache, Grayson carrying me. The light causes my eyes to slam back shut. Too fast and too much to process. If there is a God, he will make sure that Grayson Parkerson is not here. That he dropped me off, my sister came, and she’s the figure I swear I saw in the corner.
This time, I open my eyes slowly so as not to cause the headache to return with a vengeance. Once I’m acclimated a bit, I look around, avoiding the area where I know someone is, still praying it’s Winnie, but there is no God because Grayson is there.
Great.
“Hey,” I say, throat dry and hoarse.
He sits up. “Jess, hey, are you all right?”
The raging storm is now calm, just a few remnants, but nothing I can’t handle. I nod, swallowing as I try to sit up. “I’m better. I . . . I don’t remember the car or getting to the house.”
“We got here and about two hours ago, I carried you in, and you’ve been sleeping since.”
“You’ve been here for two hours?”
This is even worse than I thought.
He gets up and walks to my bed and sits at the edge. “I’ve never seen anything like that. You were in agony, Jess, and I couldn’t leave you.”
“It happens sometimes. It used to be daily, but it’s not anymore.”
“From the plane crash?”
I nod. “It’s part of the concussion injury.”
He releases a heavy sigh. “Daily?”
Those first few weeks were absolute hell. I couldn’t move without pain so intense it would drop me to the floor. “The doctors say they’ll become less frequent as I heal, but the brain works on its own time, and I can’t do anything to move the process along. S-some days—” I stutter and then catch myself. “Some days were so bad I didn’t get out of bed at all.”
“Does your family know?”
“Of course,” I say tentatively.
“Winnie must’ve told Stella, but . . .”
“But?”
He chuckles quietly. “I have a rule about not discussing women I love who left me.”
“Ah, well, I guess both our sisters can keep their traps shut occasionally. I have the same rule about this town and people I loved.”
“So, you didn’t want to know about me?”
I shake my head softly. “It was . . . I couldn’t . . .” I had to pretend.
Pretend I didn’t love you.
Pretend I didn’t regret leaving and think of you.
Pretend that I didn’t make a huge mistake.
He looks down at his hands. “I’m glad we were at the store today.”
A niggling memory starts to surface. “You were with your daughter?”
Grayson smiles. “Yeah, that was her.”
“I didn’t get to see her.”
“No,” a soft chuckle escapes. “I guess you didn’t.”
“Where is she?”
“She’s with your sister and Stella, doing makeovers and nails.”
“While you sit here with me . . .”
Our eyes meet for a brief second, and it feels as if a million things are said without a single word. “I guess it’s one of those things.”
“One of what things?”
Why am I asking him this? Why do I care? He and I are nothing, and it doesn’t matter that, when I thought the world was ending, he was one of the faces I saw. It’s not the only reason I came back to Willow Creek Valley. It’s home, and for all I knew, he didn’t live here.
What we had ended years ago. I’m being stupid.
“Where you loved someone once and you can’t quite walk away when you see them hurting.”
And my heart races. I stare at him, wondering if this is some medication-induced hallucination. It wouldn’t be the first. Or maybe, maybe this is a dream. One that isn’t filled with metal crunching and pain as the plane makes impact with the ground.
I blink a few times, seeing if I wake up.
“Winnie would’ve made sure I was okay,” I say softly.
“I’m sure, but she couldn’t have carried you out of the car. So, you’d be in the backseat right now instead of in bed.”
I smile and close my eyes. “True.”
Grayson leans closer. “Are you okay? Seriously?”
Slowly, I sigh and then look at him again. “I am. It’s hard, and it usually takes a full day to recover.”
“What brings them on?”
“It can be anything.”
Grayson grips the back of his neck. “When is the last time you got one?”
I don’t want to lie to Grayson, but at the same time, I don’t want to lose the job before I even start. I am genuinely excited and ready to resume some sense of normal again. Working gives purpose and joy. I loved to fly, meet celebrities, and get to see new places. Now all of that is gone, and I’m not sure who I am anymore.
“It’s been about a week, but when I’m triggered, there’s no stopping it.”
“Stress probably doesn’t help,” he notes. “Are you sure about going back to work?”
I knew it. Disappointment fills me as I prepare to have the job taken from me. “I can handle it, Gray.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t. I just worry that it’s going to be a lot of stress, long days on your feet, running around and dealing with my family. I don’t want it to end up hurting you.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s not like that. I need this. I have felt so useless and broken, please, don’t take it away.”
He moves quickly, hands taking mine. “I wasn’t saying that. No, I wouldn’t not let you work at the inn. It’s that I’m worried it’ll make things worse.”
I sit up slowly, measuring the pain and light sensitivity. “The only thing that’s making it worse is not living. Since the crash, I’ve been here—alone. I can’t drive. My words . . . they get stuck. It’s better though,” I say quickly. “I’m doing better, and when Stella offered me the job, it was th
e first time I felt okay.”
Saying it aloud makes me feel stupid, but I need him to see that this job is saving me.
“And if you get a headache?”
I release a breath through my nose and shrug. “I don’t know.”
He releases my hands, sighing deeply. “What if I find you another job? One where you don’t have to worry about people or really much of anything, but you can still work.”
“No. I’m not a charity case, and I swear, I can do this.”
“I never said you were or that you couldn’t.”
“If I were just some girl and you didn’t know me or about what happened to me, would you be worried like this?”
Grayson smirks. “You’re not some girl. You were the first girl I ever loved, and trying to pretend otherwise is a mistake.”
“Maybe so, but I got this job from your sister because you need a front desk manager.”
He stands, pacing around my room. “I need a lot of things,” he says so quietly I’m not sure I heard it right. After a few more turns around, he stops and looks at me. “Okay. One condition though.”
“Name it.”
“If you feel a headache coming on or that you need a break because you’re tired . . . I mean anything weird, you tell me immediately. Don’t wait until it’s bad or because you’re in the middle of something. Deal?”
I nod. “Deal.”
“Good. Then I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Monday.” I have one week to get prepared to be around this man all the time.
He sits back on the edge of my bed. “Okay then. Since you’re doing better, I’m going to get my daughter, take her home, and do some damage control. I’m sure our sisters have corrupted her enough.”
It’s weird to think of Grayson as a father. He was always a great guy, caring, loyal, and giving, and it’s good to know that hasn’t changed about him. “Your daughter . . . is she like you?”
He grins. “I sure hope not.”
“Why would you say that?” I ask with a yawn. The medicine usually causes me to sleep off and on for hours.
“Because I was stupid, trusting, and while I got Melia, who is the best thing to ever happen to me, the fight was hard, and I don’t want her to struggle.”
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