by Dena Blake
“Stop.” Whitney rolled her eyes. “I saw you hide the bottle. Who wears a jacket in eighty-degree weather?” She took the top off her coffee and poured what was left into the sink. “Now give me some.”
He took out the bottle, pulled the cork loose, and filled her cup halfway. “What’s for dinner, sis?” Jackson set his cup on the white table cloth and lifted the lid from the plate. “Shrimp fettuccine. Yum.”
“Jackson. Leave that. It’s for Chloe, and she needs to eat it.”
“I just want a taste. She doesn’t mind.” He unwrapped the silverware, picked up the fork, and twirled a gob of pasta with it. “Oh my God, this is delicious,” he said with a mouthful of food as he spooled another forkful of fettuccine. “You need to taste this.” He held the fork in front of Chloe’s mouth.
She shook her head. “I’m not hungry.” She held up her cup. “I will take more wine, though.”
“If you want more wine, you have to eat some pasta.”
“What the fuck, Jackson.” She reached for the bottle. “I’m a grown woman. I can have wine if I want it.” She grabbed the bottle and plucked the cork from it.
He flattened his lips. “Yes, you can. But you need to take care of yourself so that when Shay wakes up, you have the strength to take care of her.” He dropped the fork onto the plate, took the bottle from her, and poured more into her cup. “That is your plan, right?”
“You’re going to care for her?” Whitney’s voice rose. “What about her parents?” Apparently, she’d forgotten about Shay’s family situation.
“I don’t want her parents involved. At least not her mother. Shay would hate me even more for that.”
Whitney glanced at Jackson, and he nodded. “It’s a bad deal.” He picked up the fork and held it in front of her again. “So, eat, please.”
She took the bite of pasta and swallowed it. “It’s cold.”
He picked up the plate. “I can fix that. There’s a microwave at the nurses’ station.” He headed for the door. “Be right back.”
Whitney moved a couple of throw pillows to the corner of the couch and sank down next to them, propping her arm on top of the back. “What are you gonna do if Shay doesn’t want your help?”
“I don’t know. I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. But I won’t abandon her. Not now. Not since I’m the reason she’s here.” She couldn’t stop the tears she’d been holding back for the past few days.
Whitney bolted from the couch and took her into her arms. “You’re not why she’s here. The guy who ran the red light did this.”
“Oh my God, Whit. What the hell am I going to do if she doesn’t wake up?” She sobbed into Whitney’s shoulder.
“She’ll wake up. The doctor doesn’t see any reason why she shouldn’t.”
“Other than the fact that her head shattered the fucking window.” She pushed away and scrubbed the tears from her cheeks. “I don’t care if she hates me for the rest of my life as long as she comes out of this.”
“Jesus, Chloe. What happened to that glass-half-full girl I went to college with?”
“She’s gone. Has been for months.” She shook her head. “I’m responsible for this. All of it.” Nothing was going to rid her of the guilt she felt right now. Whether it would go away after Shay regained consciousness was yet to be seen.
Jackson came back with the pasta. “Shit, that’s hot.” He slid it onto the table and then shook his hands. “You’d think in a ritzy place like this they’d have some hot pads.”
Chloe chuckled. “Or a towel, or something.”
“Shut it,” he said and handed her the fork. “Now sit and eat.”
She made herself eat a few bites, chugged the rest of her wine, and then forced down a few more before she dropped the fork to the plate. “That’s it. No more.”
He examined the plate and said, “Okay,” before he picked up the fork and finished what was left.
The three of them watched the sunset through the window, and then Jackson found a movie on TV to watch, so they stayed a few more hours. Chloe couldn’t keep her eyes open, but she’d been awake to hear Jackson say he’d see her tomorrow after he covered her with a blanket and kissed her forehead. He knew she wasn’t leaving this hospital until they brought Shay out of this coma. She needed to make sure she was awake and okay.
Chapter Six
The door opened, and the nurse stood on the threshold. “A woman out here named Erica says she’s a friend of the family. Do you want us to let her in?”
Two in two days was too much for Chloe to handle. She launched out of the chair and rushed to the door. “No. I’ll come out there.” She went to the bed and patted Shay’s hand. “I’ll be right back.” She didn’t know if Shay could hear her, but she’d read stories of people who said they’d heard everything while they were unconscious.
She followed the nurse down the hallway and around the corner, where she found Erica chatting up the orderly at the desk.
Erica immediately rushed to her and pulled her into a hug. “I’ve been so worried. You haven’t been answering my texts or my calls.”
“My phone’s dead.” She was lying. She led her to the doors and pushed the button to open them. “You can’t come in here.” She stepped out into the hallway and then the waiting room as the door closed behind them.
“What can I do?”
“Nothing.” She looked at the chairs, the door, the vending machine. Everywhere but at Erica. “You’ve done enough.”
“You can’t possibly be blaming this on me,” Erica said as her hand went to her hip.
“No. It’s all on me. I accept full responsibility.” She should’ve never let Erica move her clothes in so soon. Not that she’d had a choice. She and Shay had barely separated, and the emotional wounds were still raw. And now Erica was here to claim her again, while her soul mate, the woman she’d thought she’d be with forever, was lying in a hospital bed in a medically induced coma to reduce the swelling of her brain.
“How long are you going to keep this up? Sitting by her bedside like this?” It was clear Erica wasn’t happy. “I haven’t seen you in days.” She reached for Chloe’s hand and squeezed it. “I miss you.”
“I don’t know.” She slipped her hand away. “I can’t leave her here alone.” Everything she’d said was true. She had no idea what her next step would be. That would depend on whether the prognosis the doctor had given them was accurate, which they had yet to see. She planned to do everything she could to help with Shay’s recovery. Even if it meant limiting herself to a few stolen moments with Erica here and there while Shay recovered. If her conscience would even let her do that. She wasn’t about to let Erica make things harder for Shay or her.
“Can I get you some food? Bring you some clothes?”
She shook her head. “Jackson’s taking care of that.” She went into the hall and pushed the button for the doors. “I have to get back to her.” She turned and left Erica standing in the waiting room. It was cruel, but Erica had been the catalyst for the accident. She’d taken liberties, done things Chloe hadn’t given her permission to do, and she couldn’t get past that yet.
She shouldn’t have been so cold to Erica. She’d been there for her when she’d needed comfort, hadn’t she? Or had she just been an opportunist who had stepped in at the right time? She’d heard so many lies over the past six months, she wasn’t sure about anything anymore.
Chloe hadn’t meant to spy on Shay. The fact that she’d even seen the text messages was a fluke, really. Shay had bought a new MacBook Pro and had given Chloe her old MacBook to use at the studio. No one was more surprised when the message popped up on the screen from Lila. Right after that, all the previous messages populated as well. The whole horrible discovery was burned into her memory.
“What the fuck?” she said as she read the first line of text from Lila.
Can you come over tonight? I miss you.
Shay’s response appeared from the bubbles next: I should be able to brea
k away for a little while. Should I bring dinner?
Lila’s response made her stomach clench. I’m only hungry for one thing. You’d better get here quick before I start without you.
Shay wrote back, On my way…we’ll be working though.
Lila responded with a sad-face emoji. All work and no play makes Lila a sad girl.
After reading the first few texts, Chloe thought she might vomit. She read a few more, ran to the bathroom, and became physically ill. They might not have been sleeping together yet, but she’d seen flirting like that before, and they were definitely moving in that direction.
Three days had passed before she could look again. Later that week, she’d closed the gallery and sat all alone in the office wondering if she wanted to know more. She didn’t, but she needed to know more. She stayed until almost midnight reading through thousands of texts, finding out things she didn’t want to and didn’t know what she’d done to push Shay away. How could she derail the direction this was taking?
All this time Shay had been so jealous of Erica, yet nothing at all had gone on between them. Not that Erica hadn’t tried, but Chloe loved Shay and was crushed that she didn’t feel the same anymore. That night of discovery was burned into her memory.
She heard a knock on the glass in the front of the gallery and peeked around the corner of the office to get a glimpse of who in the world would be here at this time of night. It was Erica. She gave her a wave, stepped back into the office, wiped her face, and checked her reflection in the mirror. She couldn’t hide her red, swollen eyes. After taking a few deep breaths to calm herself, she smoothed her skirt, walked to the front of the gallery, and opened the door.
“Hey. What are you doing here so late?”
“How did you know I was here?” She let Erica inside, relocked the door, and headed back to the office. She didn’t like hanging out in the middle of the gallery when it was closed. The way the gallery was lit inside, it was like being in a fishbowl. People could easily see in, but it was difficult to see out.
“I was on my way home and saw your car.”
That was a plausible excuse. Erica owned a very nice house in the upscale neighborhood bordering the arts district.
“I was just catching up on some paperwork.”
“You don’t look like you were doing paperwork.” Erica reached over and lifted her chin. “What’s going on?”
She shrugged out of her grasp. “I’m fine.” She rushed into the office and slapped the laptop closed as she sat behind the desk.
“Is it money?” Erica’s look of concern seemed genuine. “I’ll be happy to loan you whatever you need.”
She shook her head. “No. Money can’t fix this.”
“What is it, love?” Erica slid onto the corner of the desk. “Let me help.” She lowered her chin to catch Chloe’s gaze. “Please?”
She couldn’t stop the tears, and they rushed from her eyes and down her cheeks. Erica was on her knees immediately, pulling her into her arms.
“Shay is having an affair.” She couldn’t stop the words as they tumbled out, possibly not physically but definitely emotionally.
“Oh my God.” Erica squeezed her tighter. “That girl must be out of her mind to fuck around on you.”
“All this time she’s been accusing me of having an affair with you.”
“I’d be a lucky girl if that were happening.”
“I don’t think so. Apparently, I’m not all that special.”
“Don’t ever say that. You’re the most beautiful creature I know.” Erica stared into her eyes, holding contact.
“You really think so?”
“I’ve thought so since the first moment I walked into this gallery.”
That was the beginning of the decimation of her relationship with Shay. A month later she’d caught Shay and Lila together at Shay’s office and couldn’t go back from there.
* * *
It had been three days since Chloe had showered. She bent her head under the stream and let the warmth wash over her. Her muscles ached from sleeping in the recliner, and she seemed to have a permanent kink in her neck. She flipped the dial hotter, and the heat felt wonderful as it pulsed on her shoulders. When the nurse had come in to get Shay for an MRI, she’d given her one look and advised her to go home and change. Chloe hadn’t wanted to leave, but the nurse said it would take at least an hour and she should take some time to care for herself or she wouldn’t be much good to Shay when she regained consciousness. She’d sat in the empty room for a few minutes before she’d gone into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Her reflection was alarming, if not scary. A woman she didn’t recognize stared back at her, hair pushed up on one side, black mascara smudges and dark circles under her eyes. She looked like she’d been sleeping in the back of her car for weeks. She took the nurse’s advice and had gone to the apartment to shower and change.
She sorted through the pieces of clothing in the closet. She hadn’t made it back for the last load the other day, and unlike Erica, Shay hadn’t tossed the items remaining into a pile on a chair somewhere. Erica. What had she been thinking, getting involved with her? They really didn’t have anything in common, except that Chloe created art and Erica loved to buy it. Sure, every bit of her art that Erica bought had brought her one step closer to where she was today—to her own exclusive gallery. Erica had connections and had used them to get her noticed. Chloe hadn’t even slept with her because of that, which would’ve made sense in so many ways. She’d just been stupid and vulnerable after she’d discovered Shay’s indiscretion and had fallen into her bed looking for comfort. As soon as it was over, she’d felt so guilty, she’d left immediately and then gone straight to the beach house and cried. She hadn’t understood her feelings then, and she still didn’t now.
She held a sleeve from one of Shay’s dress shirts in her hand, rubbed the soft cotton-blend fabric between her fingers before she pressed it to her nose, and inhaled. The scent both calmed and agitated her. So many thoughts cluttered her mind. She wished she’d never read those text messages. Never gone looking for Shay that day. Never seen what she’d seen. She didn’t care what people who knew thought. She would’ve still been blissfully happy. Well, maybe not blissfully, but she’d still be living within her comfort zone. When had she become so weak?
She spun around, took a pair of jeans and a black tank top from the bottom drawer of the dresser, and slipped them on. The hanger flew off the rod when she tugged an oversized off-the-shoulder cotton shirt from the closet and slipped it over her head. She refused to wallow in self-pity. All she could do now was move forward.
Chapter Seven
Shay wanted the noise to stop. It was Sunday and she wanted to sleep in. Yesterday had been a glorious day. She and Chloe had spent the afternoon at the beach, which was now located just five hundred feet from the back door of their new beach house. Chloe had finally arranged her studio the way she’d wanted it and had painted for most of the morning. She’d seemed so happy when Shay had peeked in on her mid-morning to bring her a fresh cup of coffee. The huge smile had been an indication, but the long, lingering kiss had been a definite notification. They’d made love and then grabbed their boogie boards and headed for the water. Perfect day, perfect location, perfect wife. Life was good.
“Shay. Can you open your eyes for me?”
The man’s voice rang though Shay’s dreams, but she didn’t recognize it. She tried to open her eyes, but they were so heavy. “Stop,” she said, pushing the hand from her shoulder.
“That’s a good sign, right?” she heard Chloe say.
“What’s a good sign? That I want to sleep in?” She rubbed her eyes, felt a tug on her arm when she raised it. “I always sleep in on Sunday.”
Chloe chuckled. “That’s true.”
She opened her eyes slightly and reached for Chloe. “Come back to bed.” She grasped her arm and pulled her forward.
Chloe found her balance again. “The doctor needs to talk to you.”
“What…” Her voice cracked. Chloe put a straw into her mouth, and she sipped some water. “Where are we?” She moved her arm to take the cup and winced.
“Shay, I’m Dr. Graves and you’re in the hospital.”
She opened her eyes, looked briefly at the doctor before she stared at her hand, and traced the clear tubing to the IV pole.
“Chloe.” She spoke softly at first, then repeated her name anxiously. “Chloe!” She tried to shift, and pain shot down her leg.
“It’s okay, I’m here.” Chloe stroked the side of Shay’s face before she took her hand. “Try not to move. You were in a car accident.”
“I don’t remember it.”
“That’s not unusual,” the doctor said. “It’s not uncommon for people to forget the whole traumatic event.” He took something out of his pocket and said, “Look straight ahead.” Suddenly she had a bright light in her eyes. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
She looked up at Chloe and couldn’t quite make out her expression. Fear, worry? She didn’t know, but it seemed to be something other than relief. “We were at the beach.” Chloe’s expression didn’t change. “You painted in your studio all morning, and then we spent the rest of the day at the beach in the water.”
Chloe’s eyebrows rose. “Are you sure that’s all you remember?”
“Yeah.” She squeezed Chloe’s hand. “It was an awesome day. I’m so glad we closed early on the beach house, or we would’ve missed a beautiful weekend.”
“It was a wonderful day.” Chloe smiled softly.
Son of a bitch! Pain shot through her again as she shifted. “Something hurts really bad.” Beads of sweat formed on her forehead.
