Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 72616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
She swallows. “Or one of these days, you’ll just not show up." She looks down at her food and picks up the fork again.
"Don’t bet on it, Willow,” I say and sit back down in my chair. My hands want to reach out and pull the elastic from her hair. Pushing it behind her ear and leaning down and kissing her lips that I’ve spent the past couple of days dreaming about.
She ends up eating four more bites of steak and a couple of potatoes. Her appetite is still small but it’s growing every day. She never asks when the meal will be coming or tells me if she’s hungry or not.
"You can go home and sleep,” she says when the lights go dark in the room, and I look over at her. “And come back in the morning if you want."
"And miss getting a stiff neck in this cardboard chair?" I joke with her, and she shakes her head. "Good night, Willow."
She stares at me for as long as her eyes will let her. “Good night, Quinn,” she says softly. She closes her eyes for a couple of minutes and then opens them again. “Thank you.” I can see she is struggling with this, so all I can do is smile at her. She shuts her eyes as I watch her chest rise and fall as she succumbs to her slumber.
It’s only when I know she is deep asleep do I pick up her hand and place it in mine. “You’re welcome, Willow,” I say and bend to kiss the top of it softly.
Putting my head back on the chair, I fall asleep. I wake when I hear her moan out, but when I open my eyes, I see she’s still asleep. When her head goes side to side, I grab her hand in mine, and I talk softly to her. “I’m right here, Willow,” I say, and she softly stops, falling back asleep.
When I open my eyes next, I look into the bed and see it empty. I jump out of the chair as I panic, looking around. I find her looking out the window. “I didn’t want to wake you,” she says, looking at me as my heart slows to beat normal seeing her there. “Where did you think I would go?"
I don’t answer her because the answer scares me also. “I was just scared you fell off the bed,” I say, walking to stand next to her looking out the window.
The black sky slowly turns a shade of gray, the yellow starting on the horizon. “What are you doing?" I look over at her.
"I’m watching the sunrise,” she says. “Someone once said that it’s therapeutic." She smiles slyly and turns back to look at the sky. “Almost like a restart."
"Is that so?" I say, smiling myself, and I put my hand around her shoulders. Her whole body stiffens, and she doesn’t move. “That person must be really, really smart," I tease, and her body relaxes just a touch.
"Or he’s a smart-ass,” she says, and for the first time, we laugh together.
Chapter 16
Willow
"How is your head?" the doctor asks, and I look at him.
"Fine,” I say, and then he just looks at me. “No, seriously," I tell him. “I haven’t had a headache in two days."
He smiles at me. “That is excellent news." He puts his hands in his pockets. “Which means this will be more good news." I look at him and then at Shirley, wondering what they are talking about. “I can discharge you,” he says, and my happiness is there for one minute because then the fear creeps in.
"Are you sure?" I ask him, my heart pounding a mile a minute as I think of myself out of this room.
"We suggest you stay close to the hospital,” he says, nodding at me, and I don’t say anything to him. I can’t form words right now.
"This is good news," Shirley says softly when he walks out of the room. "You are finally going to be free of here."
“Yeah.” My mouth goes dry, and I ignore the stinging to my eyes. When I first woke up, all I wanted was to escape before anyone knew who I was. But the thought of being out there petrifies me, and I have no idea why.
"It’ll be so good,” she says, squeezing my hand.
"When?" I ask, trying to make a plan in my head. “When do you think I can go?"
"Go?" Quinn says, coming into the room. Shit, I think to myself. Looking at him makes the tears want to come faster and harder, so I avert my eyes quickly. "Where is she going?" I was hoping that all this might be happening when he was not here. He leaves every single day for one hour exactly, sometimes even less. No matter how many times I tell him to go or ask him why he’s here, he has never left my side. No matter how many times I’ve sent him away, he’s always here. No matter how many times I pretend to hate he is here, I sleep better knowing he is here. I know I shouldn’t get used to it and that it isn’t smart. I know that in the end I’m going to leave, and all he will be is a memory.