Untimely Love (Book 3)

♤Chapter 29♤

♤ARIANA♤

There'd been so much blood. Too much of it. No one should've bled that much from a head injury. That much of it meant it was bad. That there was a possibility that he might-

My eyes were already closed so I squeezed them tighter to shut out the thought. That didn't help. All I saw was Chris lying on the icy walkway, his face slack, and his chest barely moving.

I screamed when he fell, mostly out of shock at first, until I realized he hadn't moved after landing. That he wasn't going to. I'd fallen on my way to him, landing awkwardly on my wrist but barely feeling the sharp pain for less than two seconds as I scurried across the ground toward him.

My hand had slid to the center of his chest, it was only now I knew it was checking for a heartbeat. And when I had, I only felt a moment of peace as my hand slid up to the side of his face, cradling his cheek, before reaching beneath his head. That's when I'd felt the warmth. The liquid; hot and practically burning my fingers in the cold.

That's when I'd panicked. I wasn't sure what happened after that, who I'd been when everyone exited the house at the sounds of my screams. I didn't remember much of what I'd said when they tried to take him away from me, but they let me ride in the back of the car with him—his body stretched awkwardly across the back seat and his head on my lap, resting on the thick sweater there.

Through all the chaos, my mind chanted, 'Not him too.' Because as much as Chris and I weren't good for each other, I couldn't imagine a world without him in it.

They'd taken him away on a stretcher when we got to the closest hospital, without explanation but with quick probing questions. There weren't many but I stuttered and fumbled through them anyway.

He'd be fine, I told myself because it was true. He'd wake up and we'd talk. We'd talk about anything and everything he wanted. As long as he woke up.

"Go wash your hands," my mom said softly.

I blinked, finally focusing on the red stained on my palms and under my nails. It had barely been ten minutes. Or it could've been more than that, I wasn't sure. I didn't care to be. I didn't know how long we'd been sitting here, but I'd been focused on keeping myself from shaking.

"I'll let you know if anything happens when you get back," she added.

If anything happens...

I shook my head, clasping my hands and folding them against my torso, ignoring the ache in my wrist. I wouldn't move from this spot until a doctor or nurse—somebody—came and told us he was fine. Nothing short of perfect.

My gaze landed on the floor now. I heard my mother sigh but she didn't push. She stopped doing that a while ago. I'd thought she'd end up being even more strict but it was the opposite. I wouldn't say she was easier on me but more lenient. A lot more patient and open. I stopped trying to figure out the exact reason why because in my mind there were many.

All I could do was assume and speculate because she never talked to me. We never talked to each other—not really. We hadn't before, but something about the last few months felt almost deliberate. Like we were purposefully avoiding talking to each other more than necessary. So I let it go, but I didn't—wouldn't—take advantage of the easy way she made me make decisions these days.

I'd been ready to give her the silent treatment more when she pulled up outside of Jess's house. She'd told Charlotte. She told one of the last people I wanted to know after I asked her not to. She hadn't even told Dad but she told Chris's mom? A part of me was still angry but it was buried by the stomach-twisting anxiety wracking my body.