Chapter 75
NOVA POV
The smell of disinfectant still clung to my clothes even though we’d been cleared to leave.
It was supposed to be our last day at the hospital, but the building didn’t feel like somewhere we were leaving behind. It felt like a place that had already taken too much from us and still wanted more.
It was like therapy where everyone walked out different from how they came in. Some for the better, some haunted, and some didn’t get to walk out at all. Like Tyler, whose body was still freezing somewhere in the morgue.
Lena hadn’t been herself since she realized there was no Tyler for her again, and I think she blames herself for everything.
“Your dad’s men can help with the bag,” Katie said in that new soft tone she’s been using lately. Like she’s scared a wrong word will break someone. “Let’s just go to the car,” she added, even softer this time.
Lena stiffened up on the bed like she just saw a ghost. I dropped my own bag and joined Katie in calling her name until she blinked and came back to herself.
“What was that?” Katie asked, her eyes glassy like she was fighting her tears. If it were the old Katie, she would’ve said something like, ’what the fuck is wrong with this bitch p>
“I’m not getting into another car Lena’s voice sounded small, shaky, terrified and then she burst into tears. Katie pulled her into a hug and I joined from the other side. Somehow, we ended up tangled in a quiet group hug, three girls holding each other like we could protect ourselves from reality. But the opening door broke it.
“Let’s get going, girls,” my man—Lena’s dad—said from the doorway. I didn’t even have to look to feel his eyes on me. But now wasn’t the time for our secret stares, not when my friend was falling apart.
“Lena can’t get in a car… she’s kind of traumatized,” Katie said softly, like she was talking to a little girl.
Grant’s eyes widened briefly before he excused himself. I didn’t know what he was planning until the nurse came in later with a syringe hidden behind her clipboard.
Grant knelt beside Lena’s bed, voice calm and warm. “Hey, sweetheart.” He cupped her cheek, and she melted into his arms, probably thinking her daddy came to comfort her. Then the nurse jabbed her arm.
“No, Daddy Her voice cracked, breaking my heart in half as her eyelids fluttered closed.
Grant lifted her in his arms like she weighed nothing, like he was carrying something fragile and sacred. He didn’t let any of his men help as he carried her himself all the way to the car.
On my way out, I stopped by Sandy’s room to say my bye.
The nurse had just changed her IV. The slow, rhythmic drip… drip… drip was the only proof that she was still here. Her eyes were open but empty, her pupils chasing invisible ghosts.
“Do you know me?” I’d asked her the night before.
She’d smiled this strange, dreamy smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “You smell like rain,” she’d said. Then she laughed. “But I hate rain p>
The laugh was the same one she used the night she chased me in that weird mask down the road in her usual half-crazy, half-mean. Some things don’t change, I guess.
The doctors said the spinal cord injury was permanent. So now it’s either wheelchair or bed rest. A new chair sat folded at the foot of her bed like a reminder of what she’s lost.
“Bitch, get outta my face,” she croaked suddenly, and for a moment I thought that maybe a miracle, maybe she remembered me but the blank look in her eyes said otherwise. She just kept biting at the gloves on her hands, like she wanted to eat her way out of her own body.
“They had to force those on her,” the nurse had said once. “She keeps biting herself p>
“It wasn’t really nice meeting you, Sandy,” I said quietly, swallowing the lump in my throat. “But I wish you the best of luck p>
I blinked fast so the tears wouldn’t fall. “You’ll need it p>
Then I turned around before she could see me cry.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, half-dressed and halfway questioning my life. It’s crazy how much can change in six months.
I dyed my hair back to black but it’s sleek, straight and almost to my waist with a fringe brushing my lashes. Even though I’m not a virgin anymore, I still like the idea of looking like one. A shy nerd. It keeps people guessing and doesn’t get unnecessary attention.
“Let me help with your highlighter,” Lena said softly. Katie squatted in front of her so they’d be at the same height.
Lena’s ankle is still healing. The doctors said she’s supposed to stay in a wheelchair for a few more weeks, but that’s not exactly fashion-friendly for my best friend. So she uses it only in our apartment. In school, she switches to her walker with Katie or one of her new friends hovering nearby like loyal assistants.
“Damn girl, you know how to make colors pop!” Katie squeaked, bouncing in front of the mirror like an excited bunny.
I grabbed my compact which was one of Luca and Grant’s endless “mundane gifts.” Between the two of them, my dressing table could pass for a Sephora branch.
“Me too!” I said, dancing—or trying to—in front of Lena before squatting beside her like Katie did. But instead of taking my compact, Lena rolled her wheelchair back, spun around, and moved to the other side of the room.
Wait. Did my roommate—my best friend—just curve me in a wheelchair?
Katie’s back was to us, so she didn’t see a thing. I told myself it wasn’t personal. Maybe she’s tired. Maybe her pain meds kicked in weirdly. But when it was time to head downstairs, Lena leaned toward Katie and whispered something. Then, like magic, Katie nodded and followed her out.
By the time we got to the porch, we were a few minutes late for class and Jay had the car waiting. Katie got in first. Lena followed, and somehow, suddenly, there was no seat left. I tried the front door, but it was locked.
I knocked on the window, but Jay didn’t even look my way. The girls were laughing at something on Katie’s phone till the car rolled out of the driveway just like that. Leaving me standing there, my hand still raised like an idiot knocking on invisible glass.
It wasn’t an accident. I knew it. The timing, the whisper, the way Lena avoided my eyes. It stung, but pretending it didn’t was easier.
My phone buzzed in my hand, almost at the same time. It’s Grant’s FaceTime.
“Hello, baby,” he said, placing his phone somewhere on his desk before stepping back so I could see him. “See your man looking delicious in Armani p>
My grin came instantly, melting the leftover hurt. “I should see this every morning,” I teased as he struck a pose, his own mafia-style runway moment.
“Turn around, baby,” I said, laughing. “Let me see my man’s fine ass p>
He didn’t hesitate. He actually turned, lifting his suit jacket so the fabric of his pants stretched perfectly across his derrière. I bit my lip, laughing harder.
“Let me see yours too,” he shot back, his voice lower now, more intimate.
“Oh, there’s nowhere to put my phone,” I said, trying to sound innocent. “I’m outside our house p>
“Outside? By this time?” His brows furrowed instantly. “You’ll be late. Where are Lena and Katie? What about Jay p>
“Plot twist, they’re gone,” I said, forcing a small laugh that sounded fake even to me.
He didn’t smile. “Without you p>
“Yeah. Without me.” I tried to keep my tone light, but he could see right through it. He always does.
“Well,” he said after a moment, “give me twenty minutes. You’re already late anyway p>
Before I could reply, he hung up.
Fifteen minutes later, a damn expensive growl filled the quiet street. A grey G-Wagon, the exact G-Wagon I’d made my phone wallpaper and the biggest picture in my dream board, rolled to a stop right in front of me.
For a second, I thought I was hallucinating. The car looked too smooth, too expensive for our cracked driveway. I actually took a step back, afraid to look obsessed. But when Ivan stepped out, all stoic and robotic as usual, I exhaled a laugh.
“What are you doing at our house?” I teased, knowing how much it irritated him when I called it our house.
“Boss said to drop this for you,” his same robotic voice said, like he was reading the weather report and not handing me the keys to my dream car on a freaking Monday.