“Is there anything I can do at all? I feel useless,” Paula finally worked up the nerve to say.
Lana looked at her for a moment and managed a small, forced smile.
“You’re already doing it,” she admitted, and it was the truth.
She didn’t want to talk about it anymore because it wouldn’t change anything. She didn’t want to be alone, and for some reason, she didn’t want to be alone with Kayden either. He was trying his best to be there for her in every way possible, but every time she looked at his face, she felt guilty for losing the baby. Then anger followed the more he tried to console her, and that wasn’t fair to him.
The truth that she felt was that she didn’t feel she deserved to be consoled.Maybe if I hadn’t gone to his hospital room that night and fought Kim, I’d still be pregnant,the thought swirling in her mind every moment of the day.Regardless of their situation, Kayden needed to focus on his physical therapy, and she feared her presence was becoming a distraction. He was paying more attention to her than to his own treatment. As noble as it was, he needed to get better. Her leg was nearly healed, and although she wouldn’t be running any marathons, she could at least get around without the crutches anymore.
The cast had been removed and replaced with a boot that Paula also hideously bedazzled. It was sweet the way she looked after her, but Lana didn’t want to be treated as physically fragile anymore, not when she felt utterly broken inside already.
“Are you sure?”
“I am,” Lana replied, not bothering to look back at her friend’s perfect face.
She continued staring out the window, and her eyes landed on the small park in the middle of the roundabout in front of the diner. It’s where Kayden’s car sailed through before hitting the diner months ago, although it seemed as if it were yesterday. Aunt Mae stood at the table now and nodded her head towards Paula, who scooted over. She sat and threw her kitchen towel over her shoulder the way she always did, then reached her hands across the table for Lana’s.
Lana turned to the hand holding hers and was surprised when she felt the ample woman’s touch, unaware that the sweet woman had even sat at the table. Aunt Mae gave her hands a slight squeeze, and the small gesture made her smile faintly.
“Close your eyes, honey,” Aunt Mae commanded, “I don’t know if you’re a praying woman, but I have a feeling you are.”
Lana nodded as tears pooled in her eyes. She closed them as asked, and Paula closed hers as well. They all held hands at the table as Aunt Mae recited a prayer for healing and restoration over her life and body—and the words helped. When she was done, Lana felt a small part of the weight on her shoulders ease, and she wiped at her face.
“Anytime you need a prayer or someone to talk to, you know I’m here. Anytime, baby girl,” Aunt Mae offered.
“Thank you,” Lana whispered as she stood up and made her way back to the kitchen.
Paula reached both her hands over to Lana’s, held them, and gave a small squeeze.
“You ready to go home?” she asked.
Lana nodded, and they got up, left the diner, and made their way back up the hill.
SPRAWLED ACROSS THE bed,Kayden was sound asleep when Lana crept into the room. She was sure he was spent after his physical therapy with Theo and didn’t want to wake him. His arm wasn’t making as good of progress as they’d expected, and she could sense he was getting fearful each day that passed. She often thought about the sheer force of the squad car impact, the sickening sound of metal crumpling, and a cold wave of terror would wash over her.
Each time, she silently thanked God for protecting their lives and for the outcome that defied all odds. Most in similar situations weren't so lucky. She slowly crawled into bed, trying not to move too much, and lay facing his back. As she closed her eyes, he turned to face her now and pulled her closer to him with his good arm.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Shh, you didn’t. How was lunch?” he asked, his eyes still closed.
She looked at his face, the bruises nearly healed, but he still had some black and blue marks and stitching that needed to come out. She thought of the alternative—the horrifying, almost—that still haunted her dreams. If that crash had taken him, it would have taken her, too—not her body, but her soul. It would have erased her.
Her thankfulness for his survival was a visceral, daily relief that tightened her throat. He opened his eyes, blinking into focus, and his gaze caught the single, silent tear as it slid down her face.
“I’m sorry,” she wept, losing her desire and will to hold back the despair she felt.
He pulled her in closer.
“You have to stop apologizing, you have nothing to apologize for,” he reassured, stroking her back.
She pressed her forehead to his chest and let out all the pain and frustration and guilt she’d been walking around with for days.
“I love you so much. You didn’t do anything wrong, you hear me? Nothing. Nothing that has happened is any of your fault,” he repeated, and tilted her face to his now.
She nodded and saw him leaning into her through teary, blurred eyes. His lips connected with hers; they were warm and comforting. Kisses that felt familiar and needed.
“I love you too, and I’m sorry for being short with you lately,” she whispered, returning her face to his warm, muscular chest.
