I stand at the end of the bed, watching her sleep.
She got lucky.
That’s what the doctors said anyway. The bullet had just grazed her skull. While the damage wasn’t devastating, she’d losta lot of blood. And she had a concussion, either from the bullet itself, or the wound at the back of her head where she must have hit it. There’d been some swelling in her brain, and they induced a medical coma hoping to minimize the damage done.
They lifted the coma yesterday morning, but Briarstill hasn’t woken up.
The rain picks up outside, the pitter-pattering of the drops hits up against the window, the sky darkening as if in tune with my mood.
A clean white bandage is wrapped around Briar’s head, with cute little unicorn stickers stuck all over it, courtesy of Remi from her visit this morning before we left for the church.
“I can’t bury you too,”I murmur softly, letting out a deep sigh before reclaiming my spot in the chair beside her head, leaning in to trace my fingers down the side of her cheek.
“On the night we first met, you asked me to play a game. Do you remember?” She doesn’t say anything—doesn’t move. “I picked truth.” My voice is soft as I recall the memory. “You called me a coward and then you asked me what my biggest regret was.” I move closer, tracing my fingers over hers. “I told you I didn’t have one, and that was true…then. But if you asked me today, I’d confess that my biggest regret… was ever letting you go.”
“Truth or dare, Briar Rose?” I say, my voice rough.
She doesn’t answer me, blue eyes closed, her chest rising and falling alongside the routine beeping of the machines.
“It’s okay, I’ll choose.” I move to stroke my fingers gently through her hair.
“Dare,” I whisper softly into her ear.
“I dare you tostay.”
93
IF I LAY HERE…
BRIAR
I’m metwith darkness when I finally manage to pry my eyes open.
My lids are heavy, and it’s a struggle to hold them up, and for a moment, everything is blurry.
I focus on the sounds—the persistent beeping of a machine, the sound of rain hitting glass—and the feel of a large, warm hand wrapped around mine.
The blurriness clears, and I blink a few times, ignoring the pounding in my head to slide my eyes over, looking forhim.
Koen’s hunched over in his chair, leaning his chin atop one hand while the other holds onto mine.
He’s a mess.
Dark circles ring his eyes, the collar of his shirt is undone, his tie loose, and his hair is mussed like he’s been repeatedly running his hands through it.
He’s awake, just staring at our linked hands with familiar quiet intensity.
I squeeze his hand, and heflinches. Dark eyes rocket up, and there’s an indescribable look of relief in his when they meet mine.
“Briar?” He whispers my name, reverent, cautious, as if uncertain what he’s seeing is real.
“Hi.”
Koen releases a breath, and it’s as if an immense weight falls off his shoulders. Part of me wonders how long he’s been holding it. And it might be my vision blurring again… but his eyes look…shiny—and red.
“I thought I lost you again.”
I squeeze his hand, looking him in the eye. “I’m not going anywhere.”
