“Joshua?” I hear, and for a moment I think I’m a kid again and it’s my mother’s voice trying to wake me for school. For a second I’m annoyed—but then reality hits. Fuck, I wish I was that kid. I’d take all the Monday mornings in the history of the world if it took me away from this reality.

I sit up and thank Nurse Ruby when she hands me the coffee. “I figured you could use it,” she says, the same pitiful smile from yesterday.

“Do you know anything more?” I ask, not sharing the fact that I do.

She shakes her head, her lips pressed tight. “My shift just started. But I checked in on her first thing before I even knew you were here.” She glances at Rob and Hunter still asleep in the corner of the room we’ve deemed as ours. “She’s beautiful, Josh,” she says, her gaze dropping.

She checked in on her… saw her file. She probably thinks the same of me as those asshole nurses from last night—she just doesn’t have the guts to tell me to my face.

“I know,” I whisper, a lump forming in my throat. “She’s… my everything.”

Nurse Ruby clears her throat. “She’s still not ready to see anyone, Josh. Why don’t you go—”

“Not you too,” I cut in. “You can’t make me leave, right? I mean there’s no law that states I can’t be here.”

“No,” she says, looking right in my eyes. “You can stay.”

She starts to leave but I grab her arm. “I know she doesn’t want to see me. I know she hates me. I know that seeing me will most likely make it worse. I know that you know that, too. But I can’t not see her. I just… I need to talk to her and I need to touch her and I need to know that she’s okay. And I need to tell her that I love her, that she’s everything to me and that…” I choke on sob. “That I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Nurse Ruby takes me in her arms, holding me, all while I cry unashamed.

“I love her,” I mumble. “And I don’t want to exist without her.”

She pulls back, her tear soaked eyes on mine again. With her hands on my shoulders, she nods once, and then she’s gone.

She doesn’t speak to me for the rest of the day.

Rob and Hunter barely speak to me.

I wonder if they’ve worked it out—that I’m the reason she’s here. I wonder if they hate me as much as I hate me.

At some point, Chazarae walks out. She sees me but she doesn’t acknowledge me. An hour later she returns, showered and changed, Bible in her hand. Like the fucking Bible can rewind time and erase the past. It can’t do shit. And even with that in mind, I find myself pacing the floors, praying to a God who knows I don’t believe in him.

Kim calls. She says Tommy’s been asking for me. He wants to talk to me, so I let him. He talks about anything and everything and I listen to his voice, hear the joy in his words, and I try—I try so damn hard—to hide the sadness in mine.

I go back to breathing without really existing, all while the world moves on around me.

Seconds turn to minutes, minutes turn to hours.

And I wait.

- Becca -

“I understand,” the nurse says to Grams. Her voice is soft and warm, unlike the male nurse I had yesterday. She’s not my nurse though—I know this because she came in this morning, skimmed over my chart and just looked at me—right into my eyes. She smiled sadly and then left.

She comes in often but never checks my chart.

The other nurses check the chart every single time they come in. I wonder what they’re looking for—a note that proclaims I’m no longer crazy and they can go back to taking care of people who need it?

“Just think about it,” the nurse says, her hand on Grams’ arm.

Grams nods and waits for the nurse to leave before coming to me.

She sets her Bible next to my arm and slowly takes my hand. Her fingers skim the bandages around my thumb and I look away because the heartache in her eyes is too much to handle.

“I’ve been lost,” she says, and I can already tell she’s crying. “I don’t know what the right thing to do is here and I want to do the right thing, sweetheart. I want to protect you but I don’t know if that’s the best for you. I’ve been praying and looking to God for the answers but I’m torn. Matthew 6:7 says: Blessed are the merciful for they shall receive mercy,” she sniffs once, and I finally look at her. She inhales deeply. “It’s not me who needs to offer forgiveness. It’s you. It is you he has wronged. Not I. And it’s wrong for me to make that choice for you.”

My eyes narrow.

Her tears fall faster.

Next to me, the heart monitor beeps—the space between each sound shorter than the last.

“Josh is here,” she says, and I fight to breathe. “He hasn’t left. Not once.” She lowers her gaze. “Becca, I told him you couldn’t see him.”

“Why?” I mouth.

“Because I didn’t want him near you. I couldn’t forgive him for the way he’d treated you. For bringing you back to this place, back to the darkness of your past.” She looks up now. “Do you want to see him, Becca?”

★★★

Grams waits until there’s only ten minutes left of visiting hours before getting him. I know if I see him any earlier, he’ll want to stay.

I’ll want him to stay.

And he can’t.

I don’t move when he walks in, his hands in his pockets and his head lowered. He doesn’t look at me either. He simply sits down on the chair next to my bed, the same one Grams has been in since I was moved into this room.

His hands raise and pause an inch over my arm. His eyes lock on the bandages around my thumb and circle around my hand down to my wrist. He doesn’t touch me. I don’t want him to touch me. Then he pulls back, his hands on his lap. He looks up, first at the wall opposite me, and slowly, at me.

And I feel like I’ve died.

Like the breaths I’d been taking are no longer possible and everything inside me has stopped.

Just stopped.

But I know it’s not true because I can still see him. I can see the lifelessness in his eyes, the darkness that surrounds them—the heaving motion of his chest and quivering of his lips. I see him. But it’s not him.

And neither am I.

He clears his throat, his eyes on mine.

“You look beautiful,” he whispers, and my eyes drift shut, releasing the tears. His hands jerk forward, wanting to wipe them away, but I beat him to it.

“I looked into school in St. Louis,” he says, “For Tommy. There are some good elementary schools around Washington University. Robby says he’ll write me a really good reference. I can get a job there. I’ve saved up enough that we can move there. All three of us. We can get a two-bedroom apartment or something. Or, I mean, even if you want to live on campus or whatever, we’ll just stay close.” He sniffs once and wipes his noise. “We can go now if you want. When you get out or whenever. Whatever you want, baby. I don’t…” He breaks off on a sob and I do nothing but watch him, tears flowing fast and free. “I don’t want to live in a world that you’re not part of. I don’t know how to live without you. And I’m sorry, Becca.” He reaches out now, his hands on my arm. I don’t flinch from his touch. I don’t move at all. But I don’t love it like I used to. “I’m so fucking sorry. And I love you so much. You have to know that—that I’m so in love with you. Becca, please say something. Please?”