Moving Forward by Liz Ashlee

Author:Liz Ashlee
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Grief, Death, Small Town Romance, Diner, Second Chance Romance, Opposites Attract
Publisher: Inkspell Publishing
Published: 2024-04-16T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

MAX

My head hurts. I’m pretty sure there might be fifty million tiny bouncy balls being flung around by Tasmanian devils in there. Not to mention there’s a searing pain just above my temple. Did I get run over by a semi?

“Cain?” Surely, we’d fallen asleep together on the boat. Or did we? Everything after our conversation is blurry, like a word that’s on the tip of your tongue but you can’t seem to recall it. There’s just a brick wall of nothing.

“No honey, it’s us.”

I startle, my eyes springing open. “What?” My throat feels like sandpaper.

My mom is smiling at me, tears in her eyes. Why is she crying? More importantly, why is she on the boat with Cain and me?

Oh god. I bring my hands to my chest, feeling for fabric. Okay, I’m not topless, but why am I wearing a shirt? I look down. Not a shirt. There’s the telltale pattern of a hospital gown. Um . . .

“We’re so happy you’re awake,” she says, taking my hand in hers. “When Cain called . . . oh, honey. Thank God.”

My dad and grandpa stand behind her, equally concerned and relieved. Me, I’m just totally confused.

“What happened?” I ask. And ow, my head hurts when I talk.

“Are you experiencing memory loss?” There’s a man standing on the opposite side of my bed, obviously my doctor, in dark blue scrubs. He scratches his scraggly beard and adds, “You hit your head.”

I did?

“Yes, you did.”

I said that out loud?

“Yes, to that also. Do you remember what happened right before you jumped off the boat?”

I focus on just nodding this time. My family does not need to know what Cain and I were doing.

The doctor nods and starts doing a series of tests, like tracking my eye movements with a light. “I’m not too worried. All of her vitals and labs are fine,” he explains. “Forgetting the actual accident is normal, but I do want to keep you overnight for observations. You gave us quite the scare, Ms. Dawson. Be more careful next time, alright?”

He walks out of the room and my mom smooths my hair. “Dad, can you go let the Millers and Ruth know she’s awake?”

“Sure,” Grandpa answers. He peeks around my mom and points his finger at me. “Don’t you do that to us again. That was worse than combat.”

After Grandpa leaves, Dad moves to the other side of my bed. He pulls over a chair and sits down. “How’s your head, kiddo?”

“Hurts,” I answer.

“Your neck?”

“Hurts also,” I repeat.

“Probably going to for a while,” he tells me, his nose screwed up like it always does when he’s the bearer of bad news.

“Sorry you had to drive up here,” I say.

“No, kiddo. We’d be here in a heartbeat even if you were going to walk away with just a scab. Besides, we were coming in anyway for the Millers’ Fourth of July party. We’re just going to rent a hotel room for a few days so we can baby you,” Mom tells me.

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