by Alexa Davis
“Well, like Heidi said, she will be transferred to a long-term facility tomorrow. Don’t worry. She’s in good hands.” Dr. Patel gave me a small smile and gestured me out the door with a nod. I hesitated, loathe to leave her side when she might not let me back in even to say goodbye, but he held the door for me, and I reluctantly followed. He handed me a card with the Austin Hope Rehabilitation Center’s address and phone numbers on it. I turned it over and, on the back, was Dr. Castle’s name and a phone number.
“Call and check in on her as much as you need to, and they’ll let you know when the best times to visit are, and even what outside items might help her improve as she goes on. Right now, she has an uphill battle and needs the support more than she could ever know.”
We shook hands, and I nodded at the other doctors as they emerged from the room.
“It was good to meet you, Logan. Heidi talked about you a lot during our interviews. I look forward to seeing you visit us at Austin Hope,” Dr. Castle said.
I offered him my hand, and he grasped it and shook it vigorously.
“Just do everything you can to make her feel right about herself. Walking is secondary to her happiness, to me.”
His eyebrows arched, and he glanced back into the room. “Right now, those are completely intertwined. But not all her therapy will be physical at Austin Hope, and I have a feeling you’ll start to see the difference soon.”
I watched the doctors walk away, avoiding having to say goodbye to Heidi for as long as I could.
Juliette emerged a minute or two later, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. “She’s ready for you, now,” she sniffled as she turned to walk toward the elevators.
I took a breath, steeled myself, and walked into the dim room, letting the door fall shut behind me.
“Hey, Logan. I made room for you on the bed,” Heidi offered.
I gingerly leaned on the edge of the bed, avoiding contact with her body. The hospital bed still swallowed her, but now she looked elfin against all that white, instead of ghostly. I wished for her to take back the last ten minutes of our lives and tell me she didn’t mean me, that she’d never leave me. Instead, she took my hand and examined it, stroking my fingers, and taking deep breaths that I could see were holding back more tears.
“You don’t have to do this,” I reminded her.
“I can’t ask you to stick around for an invalid. We knew it was a risk, and I’m happy to be alive, I am. I’m glad I have a chance at some sort of a life. But this isn’t what you signed on for, and we haven’t made any promises to each other.”
“How can you say that? I’ve made promises, and I’ve kept them. You don’t make promises. You’re the one with one eye always on the escape hatch.” I jerked my hand away from her and stood. “What do you want from me, Heidi? Right now, why am I here?”
“I care about you, and I know you care about me, too.”
“No.” I said the word with finality.
Her mouth shut with a clack of her teeth.
“I love you. You love me. We both know it, and calling it something else doesn’t change that.” I was pacing the room, afraid to even look at her because I knew I was making her cry, and I had no right to hurt her more than she already was.
“Logan, I wasn’t trying to minimize our relationship,” she said in a pleading voice.
I stopped and glared at the tiny window that only showed blue sky outside, without any real view. “That’s exactly what you’re doing, Heidi. But you don’t get to change our history to make you look less guilty.” I finally looked at her, and my chest squeezed down on my lungs like a vise at the sight of her tear-stained face.
“Guilty of what?”
“You’re throwing away love, real love. It was fast, and exciting, and surprising, and instead of embracing it and giving us the chance we deserve, you’re shutting me out, like I was part of your cancer, and by getting rid of me, you can pretend it never happened.” I leaned forward, and my body reacted to the smell of her skin, even through my pain and anger.
I started to pull away, but she reached out and touched my hip, pulling me to her.
“I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered.
I slid my leg onto the bed so I was sharing her pillow, her face inches from mine. “Then don’t toss me to the curb like leftover garbage from your old life.”
I kissed her, and her mouth opened under my coaxing tongue. She tasted like mint and sunshine and everything I had been missing since she’d started treatment months before, and my pants got tight as my cock reacted to her nearness.
“God, I wish I could be with you. I’ve missed your touch. You treated me like I was so breakable, I was afraid you’d never want to put your hands on me again.”
“Mmm,” I hummed into her hair as I pulled her against me. “I stopped wanting anything but to help you get better for so long, I’m afraid to be this close to you. I want you so badly, all I can think about is running my hands and mouth over every inch of you.”
She shuddered and tugged at me, pushing the blankets away in frustration. “I can’t do things the way we did. I still have pain in my back, and my legs aren’t working. What kind of lover would I be?”
She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, and I slid my arm under her head.
“I’ll make you a deal, but you have to make a promise, and keep it, okay?”
She rolled her eyes. “Tell me first, and I’ll let you know if I can agree to it.”
I nodded. “I’ll let you do your thing. I won’t even stop by. I will text to check in on you, every day. I’ll call and hope you pick up, but I won’t demand it.”
“I can agree to that,” she said, and I slid my hand down her abdomen until I felt her tighten under my hand and her body go still.
“I’m not done yet. When you get out of there, no matter what, you come find me.”
Her eyes narrowed at me as I talked. “What do you mean, come find you?” she asked, putting her hand over mine to stop me from going any farther toward her mound.
“If I’m working in the Netherlands, if I’m off the coast of Africa, you come to me, and even if you don’t want to be with me, you tell me to my face.”
Heidi bit her lip and absently stroked my hand as I slowly began moving it toward the “V” at the top of her soft, pale thighs. “Anywhere you are? You’ll make sure I know how to find you?”
My hand slid under the blanket and gently teased her through her leggings. Her eyes flew wide open, and I grinned as I leaned up over her on my elbow and bent to kiss her.
“I’m not letting you go that easy, Heidi.”
She pressed my fingers harder against her, and I spread her legs to cup the softest, warmest part of her in my hand, reveling in the pleasure etched across her face.
“I can’t. I can’t do this right now. Oh!” She started to argue, then gasped and let out a shuddering sigh as I maneuvered my hand between her clothing and her skin and slid my fingers into her waiting pussy.
“Just a little pleasure before you go. You’ve worked so hard to get better, and I missed the way you feel around me. If I thought I could get away with it, I’d pull these hot little pants down and use my tongue on you the way I’m using my fingers,” I whispered in her ear as I slowly, gently slid my finger into her, rolling my thumb over the little erect nub at the crest of her silken lips. She moaned and clutched at my arm, panting, begging me to go faster, then telling me we had to stop in the next breath. Instead, I drew my finger out and inserted two, using that same steady rhythm. I kissed her neck and nipped at her jawline, then dipped my head down to suck the tender skin of her breast while I thrust with my fingers, wishing my hard, aching cock was inside her instead.
Footsteps paused outside the door. I stopped, both of us turned to stone while we waited to be caught, but voices started conversing, and the footsteps receded the way they had come. Heidi met my eyes with her bottom lip tucked between her teeth the way that I loved.
She pull
ed her top up and over her head and my cock jumped in response to the sight of my teeth marks already on her breast. Gently, I pulled her leggings down, trying to ignore how weak and frail they looked, her thighs so thin they didn’t meet at the top. I slid my tongue into that space, loving what was there, alive and breathing, instead of what she had been. I kissed her soft lips and worked my tongue into her, pushing her knees apart enough to bury my face into her pussy. I licked and sucked her folds and stared up the length of her body as I pushed a finger in with my tongue.
She cupped her breasts in her hands and tugged at her nipples, and I pressed a hand against my cock, rubbing it through my pants to alleviate the agony of how hard and huge it was pressed between my body and my zipper.
“Take it out, let me see you,” she panted, and gratefully, I freed my erection from its binding. It sprang out then bounced up against my stomach, and I felt her clench as I sat up and stroked it in rhythm with my fingers inside her. She reached out, and I let her hand replace mine, and suddenly I had no control. My fingers sped up inside her, and she cried out, biting her lip to stay quiet as she came, her juices gushing out over my hand and wrist. I looked at my hand, glistening and wet from her pleasure, and I wrapped it around my shaft, coating myself with her natural lubricant while she dug her fingers into my thighs.
“My legs may not work, but my mouth does,” she offered, and just the thought of her sweet hot mouth around me was enough to drive me over the edge. She dug her nails into my hip, and I turned toward her and came on her stomach before I could stop myself. I watched the hot liquid land on her torso just below her breasts, and she sighed.
“I wanted to let you go, set you free from what I am now. But how can I do that when there’s no one on earth who would’ve done that for me?”
I choked out a surprised laugh. “Any man would jump at any and every chance to watch your face while you orgasm. No matter how it’s accomplished. You’re so damn beautiful when you let it all go.”
She struggled to sit up, and I held her down until I had cleaned her up and pulled her panties and her leggings back up over her tiny ass.
“I still need time,” she said, examining the sheets I’d folded over her stomach after we’d both cleaned up and redressed as necessary.
“My offer still stands. If nothing else, at least when you’re done, we’ll have had one last moment of intimacy, right?”
She chewed the inside of her cheek and sighed heavily, looking toward the door. “I’ll look forward to your texts, as long as they keep coming,” she said, and offered to shake my hand. I kissed the back of her hand instead of shaking it, then leaned down and kissed her forehead.
“Get well quickly, Heidi. You’re missed by a lot of people who care about you,” I reminded her, then left without looking back, even though the thought of not having one more chance to look at her made me feel physically ill.
It was going to be one hell of a wait, especially since I was absolutely sure that she wasn’t going to hold up her end of the deal. Not that it mattered. I was a Hargrave, and the Hargraves always had a plan B. I walked toward the office building where my older brother Tucker worked. Knowing Heidi, I’m going to need to use a few more letters of the alphabet to nail that girl down.
28. Heidi
The first two weeks in the rehabilitation center were sheer hell. I dreamed about Logan every night. Sometimes, in the middle of the day, when my mind wandered during the mandatory group therapy, or when I was sitting outside in the sun and I heard a puppy bark, my heart would ache for the little family I’d pretended to have.
The month that followed was so dark, I stopped looking at my phone, so I wouldn’t feel obligated to answer Logan’s texts. He was always careful to keep any conversation on me, but I had access to the Internet, and all the great things he was accomplishing with me out of his way.
I pored over pictures of him surrounded by people, beautiful women hanging on him, begging for his attention. He and Boyden had won an award and a lawsuit, respectively, for their work while I was undergoing my cancer treatments. I was sobbing on a treadmill, trying to lift my left foot at the same time Logan was being recognized for his achievements and being offered a gallery in the Village in New York.
When I looked him up later, lying on my back with my legs elevated and waiting for the pain meds to dull the agony of my workout, I had happened upon a photograph and a blurb. In the picture, he was standing with his arm around a young starlet who had very recently decided that saving wildlife was her life’s purpose. The blurb declared them ‘the couple who will save the world,’ and the author had gushed about Logan’s easy Texas ways as though she was next in line if the starlet didn’t pan out.
After that, I stopped cyberstalking Logan; I stopped waiting for his texts. I put away every electronic connection I had to the outside world and focused every waking moment on my recovery. Logan had moved on, but now, so could I. Almost. The therapists had all agreed that there was at least one other person I needed to make my recovery successful. As I sat in my wheelchair by the nurses’ station with the handset to the phone in my hand, I tried to figure out what to say, but I couldn’t think past the beating of my heart.
Finally, the phone clicked over to voicemail, and I tried to pull my thoughts together to leave a coherent message. I cleared my throat and waited for the beep.
“Mom, I know I asked for space to get better, but I’m at a point where I need to talk to you and give you a chance to talk to me so I can keep improving. If you want to come by, just drop in, anytime. I’m not going anywhere for a while.”
I hung up and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly to calm myself. I’d thought breaking up with Logan would be the hardest thing I ever did. Then I’d failed at even that and left myself open to be replaced with a barely legal actress who defined her life’s purpose by the beliefs of whoever she wanted to screw.
I told the nurse at the desk that I didn’t feel well and skipped group therapy, opting to stay in my room and elevate my legs for a few extra minutes instead of listening to Carl, the victim of a drunk driving accident, bare his heart about how Jesus saved his life. Or Paul, the wounded veteran, walking even though his paralysis was worse than mine. Every time that self-satisfied jerk told me it was my fault I wasn’t walking yet, I wanted to punch him in the face. “Then again,” I said aloud to my reflection in the small bathroom mirror, “Maybe releasing that frustration would aid my progress.” I smirked at myself and dried my hands, then wheeled my chair over to the bed and locked the wheels.
As I lifted my body onto the bed, I wondered how Logan’s older brother, George, had gotten through those first few months. I took my phone out of the table next to the bed and turned it on as I considered calling Callie’s pet store for her husband’s number. She’d been with me the day I checked into the long-term rehabilitation center, along with all the other Hargrave women and my mom. It had been a moment of pride, to see so many women who cared about my well-being, not because of any man, but because they’d already been with me through so much.
I could hate Logan until my dying day. I refused to give up the friends I’d made in his family. If he didn’t like that, I figured he could stuff it. After all, he’d been the one to force them on me in the first place. I didn’t call Callie, but I left the phone where I would remember to later and lifted my legs into a comfortable position by tugging at my pants with both hands and scooting myself into the center of the bed. I laid on my back, panting, and tried to forget the aching, gnawing pain that demanded I call Logan and unleash all my heartbreak on him until I’d cried myself dry.
Instead, I filed my feelings away alongside the jerk from group, my former boss and sexual harasser, Chad, the boy from track team, and my selfish, weak father. All the hurt and anger and broken trust filled the hole inside me. The anger was pure and clean and free of the guilt that I’d carried for so long, wondering what I could’ve done to be a better daughter, be more desirable to men, be a better friend.<
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I was almost asleep and already dreaming of the revenge I’d one day take when I walked into a room on my own steam and made Logan regret the day he’d humiliated me. A sharp rap at the door made me jump, and my heart leaped to my throat.
“Who is it?” I gasped.
My mother poked her head in at me. “You said to drop in, and I was already in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d take you at your word.”
I chuckled and sat up in the bed, trying to hide how weak my left leg still was.
“Oh, my God.” I glanced at my mother, and she was pointing at my lower body with both hands. “Look at you!” I froze and waited for the inevitable criticism. “I can’t believe how much better your right leg is working. And you have muscles again! You must be working so hard.”
I gaped at her for a moment, then finished adjusting in my bed.
“Who are you, and what have you done with my mother?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at her.
She swatted at me, then sniffed as her eyes got glassy with unshed tears.
“What’s wrong?”
“You aren’t the only one the doctors sent to therapy. It started as a support group for parents of children who are struggling through difficult collateral damage of their cancer treatment.”
“What happened?” I sat up all the way and pulled my left foot toward me so I could sit cross-legged. It had become a habit for me, and I didn’t think twice about it until I saw my mother staring.
“You don’t seem to mind at all, anymore. In the hospital, you wouldn’t even let me visit because you couldn’t stand to know I could see you.”
“I didn’t let anyone see me, Mom. Not you, or Logan, or Callie and the ladies. Only doctors, nurses, and the nice Philipino lady who always brought me extra dessert because she thought I needed the calories.” I laughed, thinking about how the lady had scolded me. “She was even smaller and meaner than you.”
My mother flinched, then chuckled. “I bet you didn’t think that was possible.”