X-rays could only show so much and if it was a thin enough fracture to not be picked up on after a third pass of my imaging, then who was he to tell me it was all in my head with every bout of dizziness that came with bending over
I’d seen it plenty of times on Grey’s Anatomy. You were either dying or soon to be dead once the room-spinnies started.
Now, it wasn’t my place to allege malpractice... but if the cookie crumbled...
Maybe I’ll get Avery to sue him instead.
“Who?” My mom asked.
“No one you know. A friend.”
While I wasn’t exactly gatekeeping Blake from her, my plan was contingent on not freaking him out too soon by throwing him into the middle of my life and compressing him with it on all sides. My family, my friends, hell even my job, were all incredibly substantial parts of my life. No matter how delicately I was going to be in trying to integrate him into those aspects of it, it was going to end up devolving into some kind of shitshow.
All I could do was try and mitigate the worst of it.
He’d survived Silas so far—one could argue was one of the bigger obstacles in this entire ordeal to overcome—and next would be my mom.
Avery?
Could go either way.
He was still caught up in Brandon most days, which hopefully meant he’d soon forget about the threat of that lawsuit.
“Avery?” she wagered.
“No. Someone from that camp I attended.”
She huffed again. “That camp. They’re lucky we haven’t gone to the media with their negligence. Did anyone ever reach out to you about what happened? I can’t believe you didn’t at least receive someone stopping by your hospital room to check on you.”
“Yeah.” Choosing my words carefully in order to skirt around telling her the truth was a bit harder than I anticipated. “The director actually offered his sincerest apologies.”
Not entirely untrue. If anything, he’d been over the top in how sorry he was. Ridiculous, considering none of this was his fault in the first place.
Blake’s teary eyes flashed in my mind, along with the dark circles that seemed permanently stamped into his tanned skin.
He’d been staying here with me a week and he still had yet to get rid of them, no matter how many times I coaxed him into taking a nap with me. With my meds making me dog-tired by the time night fell, it was hard to keep track of how often he was actually falling asleep while he brushed his hands through my hair, lulling me into my own dreams.
His wariness and overall edge toward touching me outside of helping me dress or get around the house when my arms ached too much to keep using the crutches was also concerning and the last thing I wanted happening.
This was supposed to be our excuse to get closer without the threat of camp looming over us both. Not putting more distance between us, no matter how often he tried to smother those worried frowns with forced smiles that never quite reached his eyes.
I wanted him to stay. Not out of obligation but because he also couldn’t stand the thought of leaving my side just like I couldn’t imagine leaving his.
“Really?” My mom sounded surprised.
“Yup. So stop trying to encourage Avery in finding a law firm.”
“Did they give you anything? Your money back? Flowers, at least?”
Honestly, if I asked, Blake would no doubt give me the literal shirt off his damn back, let alone all of my money I’d paid and then some. He’d probably erect some kind of memorial bench by the lakefront, complete with my name on a plaque and everything, if I so much as hinted at the idea.
“Something like that,” I replied.
“Why don’t I at least come over for dinner tonight. I can make you and your... guest? Something to eat.”
Giving Blake the night off was enticing.
The subsequent interrogation that dinner conversation would lead to the second she found out who he was?
