“The accident. I can’t get it out of my head.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Guilt shoots through me that she remembers it, and I don’t. Not that it would stop her nightmares, but it doesn’t seem fair.
I scoot back down on the bed and hold her in my arms, stroking her hair until she falls back asleep. I glance at my phone to see what time it is and see she has another few hours till her next dose of medicine. My alarm is set, but I don’t sleep.
So much has happened in the last week.
It’s only been a week.
In that time, I found Charlotte again, and I can’t lose her. When she’s not drugged up and feeling better, we need to talk. I need her to understand I will never have eyes for anyone but her—she is my everything.
I wonder if she will wake up tomorrow and everything that happened at Club D and the coffee shop will come flooding back.
Better to tell her first chance you get, so when she remembers it, she doesn’t flip.
I vow, as soon as she is not heavily medicated, that I’ll tell her exactly what happened. I only hope I get to tell her before she remembers it again and freaks.
25
Charlotte
Xander is still moaning,but we are moving.
Why are we moving? Where am I?
A stranger, a man I don’t know, is looking down at me.
“You’re doing good, Charlotte. We’re almost there.”
“Xander?” I call out, but all I hear is his moans.
“He’s right here. Just stay awake for me,” the strange man says.
I can’t move my neck, but I roll my eyes to the side and see Xander’s body. I see his face, but he’s in a neck brace, and a woman is hovering over him. His eyes are shut, and he keeps moaning, as if in pain.
“Xander,” I whisper and feel a tear run down my cheek.
“Charlotte, wake up,” I hear Xander say.
“Xander?” I try to look at him, and this time I can move my head.
He puts his hand on my cheek. “You were dreaming again.”
Closing my eyes, I think about my dream. I open them again. “We were in the ambulance.”
He nods. “I think your concussion jostled some memories of our accident. You’ve been having nightmares all night.”
I try to sit up, and it’s like someone is taking a hammer to my head.
“Whoa. Easy,” Xander instructs.
“Why do I hurt so bad?” I ask him.
“You got hit by a car yesterday.”
My eyes fling open as memories of Club D and the coffee shop come hurling at me.
“Billie,” I whisper.
