Willow
Morning reached me much like it always had—with the rise of the sun and the sounds of the world waking up around me.
Waking up without me.
Eyes squeezed shut, my heart pounding in my chest, I relived my last moment with Lucas—watching him drop out of sight, never to be seen again. My eyes flew open as I was forced to face the daily realization that Lucas was gone.That Lucas was forever gone. And just as it did every morning for the last month, that realization would set the tone for the entire day; I felt too heavy to move. The world outside this bed, outside Doc’s cabin, seemed too big and bright.
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead.” My curtains were thrown open, bright sunlight spilled into the room. “It’s beautiful outside—be a damn shame for you to miss it.”
Doc stood over me, holding a steaming mug of coffee. She was still in her pajamas—a pair of loose-fitting cotton shorts and a T-shirt, with a silken wrap wound around her head, hiding her long locks.
Wincing against the sunlight, I pulled my covers over my head. “No thank you,” I mumbled.
“Today is the day.” Doc’s no-nonsense tone followed her determined footsteps around the room. Another set of curtains were pulled open; more sunlight spilled inside. “You have to get out of that damn bed and rejoin the land of living.”
The blankets were yanked away from my face; Doc loomed over me, her expression kind yet stern. “Honey, you and I both know that the only thing stopping you from leaving this cabin isyou. Now, I’d much rather watch you walk out of here on your own two feet, but if you’re going to make me carry you, then so be it…”
“Okay,” I snapped softly, quickly shifting upright and scooting away.
Doc eyed me over the rim of her coffee. “Mmhm, now we’re gettin’ somewhere. You’d do well with a shower today, too. And to take out those braids and give that hair a good brushing.”
Twisting my sheet in my hands, I eyed the soft material with contempt. Obviously, Doc was right—there was no good reason for me to not get up and out. My leg was more or less healed; what remained of my wound was a small red line that rarely caused me pain anymore. And maybe that was the problem—the better I was feeling physically, the worse I felt mentally. I’d even begun wishing the infection would return, if only to divert my unending thoughts of Lucas. Without the fever to confuse me, without the pain to distract me, and without the drugs to numb me, I was feeling everything—all the grief and guilt and sorrow—tenfold.
“Britta dropped off a few more things for you last night,” Doc continued, “another pair of pants and some clean underthings. I put them with the rest of your stuff.”
Aside from Doc and Leisel, Britta was the only other person I saw on a regular basis. She seemed to constantly need medical treatment; every other day, she would show up requiring a bandage or the occasional stitch. Loud and always laughing, she was nosy too, oftentimes poking her head in my room, even going as far as to pull up a chair beside my bed and having entire conversations with me, despite the fact that I rarely replied.
“I have some free time this morning,” Doc said over her shoulder as she moved toward the door. “Once you’re dressed, I’ll show you where the bathhouse is.”
My gaze jerked back to Doc, my scowl deepening. I hadn’t ventured outside since the day Logan and I had fought by the gate; the mere thought of everything and everyone beyond Doc’s cabin left me feeling nauseous. There were so many people out there; after so long with only the three of us, the idea of living among such a large group felt way too daunting. Furthering my anxiety was the noticeable lack of Logan in my life. After years of him constantly berating me, and always breathing down my neck, judging my every move, two weeks without even as much as a glimpse of him felt… wrong.
“I’ve been cleaning myself,” I muttered.
Pausing, Doc glanced back at me, her lips pursed with impatience. “Willow, a sponge bath in that itty-bitty bathroom isn’t the same as an actual shower. Is this what you think that boy, Lucas, would have wanted for you? To waste away in a hospital bed?”
At the mention of Lucas, my eyes went wide. “That’s not fair,” I bit out.
Despite my melancholy, Doc had become something of a friendly face; at the very least, a regular face, and I’d grown comfortable with her to the point of confiding in her. Something I was absolutely regretting at this moment.
“Nothing in the world is fair, honey, but that doesn’t mean we stop living. Now get up and let’s go.”
As she disappeared around the corner, I stared after her, my stomach fluttering. A shuddering breath fled my lips and, before I could talk myself out of it, I’d slid out of bed and was limping across the room, shuffling through the collection of clothing I’d been slowly accumulating. Grabbing several items, I pulled my socks and boots on and, with another trembling breath, left my room.
Perched on the edge of her desk, freshly dressed in jeans and a tank top, Doc glanced at me with a smile. “Ready?” she said, moving to the door without waiting for an answer.
As the front door swung open; the sun hit me first, followed by a warm breeze of fresh air. Doc descended the porch steps, gesturing for me to follow. “We’ll go this way,” she said, directing me off the beaten path. “Fewer people.”
Following a short ways behind her, I kept my head down, until a moderate-sized cabin came into view, a large wooden sign hanging above the doorless entrance that read:BATHHOUSE. “Here we are,” Doc announced. “Jordy takes care of cleaning and whatnot. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”
Jordy must have heard us coming; a tall, slim figure appeared around the side of the brick partition that led inside the bathhouse. With short dark hair and eyes to match, he wore only a pair of green khaki shorts that hung low on his hips, highlighting the sharp V-shape chiseled into his lower abdomen. Despite his lean frame, tight muscles corded his arms and legs, and for a brief moment, he reminded me of Lucas.
“What’s up, Doc?” he asked, smiling broadly, his deep voice thickly accented.
“The sky, honey, that’s what,” Doc said, chuckling. “But down here is Willow, and Willow is in desperate need of a shower.”
Jordy’s gaze slid to me, his dark eyes appraising me from head to foot. “That bad, huh?”
“Worse,” Doc replied, and they both laughed.
