“What’s wrong?”
He blinked up as if just remembering she was there. “Nothing. I just—I haven’t been back here since...”
The accident.She’d been so swept up in her plans for the renovation that she’d nearly forgotten this was where it had happened.
Her gaze returned to the spot at which he’d been staring. “Is that—is that where I fell?”
“Yeah.” He gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to go there. It’s probably the last thing you want to think about.”
She’d wondered about the incident, but everyone avoided talking about it. And she’d avoided the topic too. But now curiosity got the best of her. “Can you tell me what happened exactly?”
He stared up at the loft and was quiet for a long moment. “We were up there. I was showing you the balcony I’d just cleaned out.” A wistful look fell over his face. “You were so excited about how spacious it was. You said we could seat six extra tables up there. You wanted to hang a chandelier and you mentioned the railings we’d need to add. You were excited about the vantage point it would give a photographer. You were practically beaming.”
His gaze fixed on the balcony as his eyes glazed over, obviously reliving the moment. “We had a date scheduled that night and you wanted to go get ready. We were going to The Landing.” His expression turned sad a beat before his eyes filled with tears.
He pulled his eyes away. Scratched his neck as he tossed her a humorless smile. “Unfortunately, I decided the balcony window needed cleaning right that minute. So I stayed in the loft while you headed down the ladder. I didn’t see what happened. But you fell somehow, bringing the ladder down with you.” His eyes closed for a long second. “When I looked down you were... sprawled on the floor, unconscious.” His face went pale. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I thought—”
She envisioned the horrific sight and a shiver passed down her arms.
“I don’t even remember getting down from the loft or calling 911. I checked your pulse and—”
Lauren’s gaze dropped to his neck, where his pulse fluttered visibly and quickly.
“It took forever for help to arrive. Graham was there. He kept whining. He lay down beside you and licked your hand. Then he got up and circled. They told me not to move you, so I just lay there with my fingers on your pulse, begging God to...” A sheen of sweat broke out on his upper lip. He ran his palms down the sides of his jeans. “I kept thinking, if only I hadn’t stayed to clean that stupid window. If only I’d gone down the ladder first and held it for you.”
She hadn’t known he was plagued with guilt. She set her hand on his arm. “Hey. It’s not your fault, Jonah. It was an accident, that’s all.”
“I’ve replayed that moment a thousand times, both awake and asleep.”
“You dream about it?”
“More like a nightmare,” he said with a wry tone. His arm flexed beneath her fingers.
She drew her hand away.
He gave his head a shake, dislodging the haunted look from his face. “Anyway. That’s what happened. When the ambulance got here, they took you away on a gurney and I rode along. You didn’t wake until later when they were wheeling you out of the CT scan.”
“I don’t remember any of that.”
“You didn’t know what had happened, why you were at the hospital. I told you. Then you asked again a few minutes later. Scared me to death.”
“The first thing I remember is Carson coming into the room.”
Jonah pressed his lips in a tight line. “Right. He came in and checked on you.”
“I was confused about why you were there.”
He tore his gaze away. “I could tell something was wrong. You seemed different—guarded. You didn’t remember Graham or the barn, but I didn’t put it together at first. Thought you were just confused.”
“I remember the panic attack.”
He cupped his neck. “Yeah. That was about the time I realized my presence was doing more harm than good.”
It must’ve been so hard for him. If he loved her—which he clearly did—leaving her would’ve been the last thing he’d have wanted to do. But he did it anyway. And stayed away for the remainder of her hospital stay.
No, wait, he’d stayed in the lobby, slept in the chair. She’d forgotten about that. She pictured him huddled in a hard chair, trying to sleep while the woman he loved was just down the hall, having forgotten all about him.
Sympathy compressed her chest. “I’m sorry for what you went through. For what you’re going through now.”
