Carlos nods. “His mother is flying in tomorrow morning.”
“That’s good,” I say.
Carlos sets his hands on my shoulders, catching my eyes. “Do you need anything, Paige?”
I say no, but he still wanders off and comes back with a bottled water and granola bar. We sit. I eat and drink, just to give my body a routine to follow, staring into the distance, imagining Liam on a surgeon’s table while his team finished the game.
“He’s done, isn’t he?”
Carlos says, “With the recovery time, the risk that he might never regain full mobility, and the fact that this is his second injury…” He sighs. “Yeah. I’d say he’s done.”
I turn to Carlos. “You’re a good friend.”
“You’re a good girlfriend,” he replies casually. I don’t correct him.
Carlos stands when a doctor he recognizes comes to greet us.
“Liam is awake,” the doctor says, smiling gently. “Groggy from the anesthesia and a little loose-lipped from the painkillers, but he’s ready to see visitors.”
“You go first.” Carlos nods me toward the doctor. “I’m going to call around and give some updates.”
“You sure?”
He just nods again, sitting back down.
I follow the doctor down a hallway and into a private patient room. Liam is sitting upright in bed wearing a hospital gown, one of his arms in a sling and the other bandaged around the elbow from his IV. His hair is flattened, there’s an indentation near his crown from a possible hairnet gone missing, and his face is white as a sheet.
But when Liam sees me, he grins ear to ear. “Hey,” he croaks out, voice lined with sleep. “It’s my sort-of, kind-of girlfriend.”
“I’ll give you two some privacy. Just be very careful,” the doctor murmurs to me.
I nod, and he closes the door, leaving us alone.
“C’mere,” Liam says, using his good hand to gesture for me.
I go to the side of his bed and grab his clammy, cold hand, holding it with both of my own. My fingers begin to massage his palm gently.
“Look at me, Paige.”
I glance up at him, my eyes instantly welling with tears when our gazes lock.
This is not what Liam needs. He needs me to be positive and strong and uplifting, but here I am choking back a sob.
“Carlos said you’re not gonna be in pain anymore.”
Liam rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t that bad until today.”
I swallow thickly, still massaging his hand. “I’m just really glad you’re okay.”
He snorts softly, then laughs. “I’m not okay, Paige. I’m toast. I probably can’t even pitch for my senior year of college. I fucked it all up and I don’t have a backup plan and now I’m toast.” He thrusts his head against the pillow, eyes on the ceiling.
“I’m so—sad,” he whispers eventually. “I loved it so much.”
My heart can barely take it. Such a simple admission that sayseverything.
“And I wish my dad was here.”
I push my forehead against our clasped hands, fighting back my emotions. I wish I’d called Maren for advice on the way here. How to be strong in a storm.
