“Claire said you might want to try eating something,” she says. “He went to find you something that isn’t dry crackers or watery soup.”
Relief hits me in the chest, and I sink back into the pillow, a shaky breath slipping free.
He’s coming back.
“How long was I asleep for?”
“A couple of hours,” Tessa says. “Hunter texted us not long after you drifted off.”
“Have you been here all this time?” I ask.
“Obviously,” she deadpans. “Watching you sleep has officially become our favorite daytime activity.”
Halle huffs out a laugh, and I smile at my childhood friend.
“We’re so fucking happy you’re awake,” Halle says.
Tessa’s expression turns more serious. “How are you feeling? Do you want us to get the doctor?”
“Like I’ve been hit by a truck,” I admit. “I’m okay, though. Happy to be alive, to see you girls. I’m sorry for worrying you.”
“Nope,” Halle cuts in. “Don’t you dare apologize.”
“I keep telling her to stop saying sorry too.”
My head whips to the side at the sound of his voice, and a sharp pain shoots through my skull, making me hiss. Hunter leans on the doorframe, a paper bag hanging from his fingertips.
His eyes sweep over me, checking everything, and just like that, the tight knot in my stomach loosens. He’s showered since I last saw him. The shadows beneath his eyes have faded, the scruff along his jaw gone, leaving those sharp lines I know so well on full display.
He walks over to me, and my eyes never leave him. He leans in, pressing a kiss to my cheek, then lingers just long enough to murmur in my ear, “Gotta stop looking at me like that, baby girl.”
I bite down on my lip, a sheepish smile tugging at my mouth as he pulls back.
“What’s in the bag?” Halle asks.
Hunter slides the table closer, reaches for the remote dangling off the side of the bed, and presses the button until I’m sitting more upright.
When he opens the bag, the warm, buttery smell hits me. My stomach stirs, my mouth waters, and for the first time in I don’t know how long, I smile.
“Blueberry muffin?”
“Claire said you’ve gotta take it easy,” he says. “Small bites to start with. If you feel nauseous at all, you stop.”
Tessa leans in, peeking into the bag, her grin instant. “Hell yeah. You got us muffins, too.”
“Duh, I’m notthatmuch of an idiot.”
“That’s debatable.” Halle snickers.
It’s funny. Before the accident, I could have watched this moment unfold and not thought twice about it. But when you face death and survive it, everything becomes more. These small moments aren’t small anymore. They’re big. So big, my heart feels full.
The girls settle on either side of the bed near my feet, while Hunter takes the chair beside me. They spend the next thirty minutes catching me up on everything I’ve missed—work, town gossip, all the small, ordinary things that kept moving while my world stopped.
I listen, growing heavier with each passing minute. I manage three small bites of the muffin before my stomach rolls in protest.
When Tessa mentions Sarah and Connor, my heart stutters, and I straighten abruptly.
“Wait, oh my god. I’m so sorry. I should have… I forgot…”
