Where the Heart Is (Hearts Series Book 1)

by L. S. Pullen

  His form slowly turns to shadow as he slips further away from me. I scream, but no sound comes out, no matter how hard I try.

  I blink rapidly as a face comes into focus.

  Sophie strokes my arm. “Hey, Bunny, you were having a bad dream,” she says, wiping my face. “I came by to check on you. Charlie thought you might be here…”

  “How long have I been asleep?”

  “Most of the afternoon. I came because he’s awake.”

  I sit up and swing my legs over the edge of the mattress. “What the fuck, Soph?”

  She flinches.

  I grab her hand.

  “Come on, let’s get you back to the hospital.”

  I pull her in for a hug. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” She stands, holding out her hand for me.

  I hop from one foot to the other, working the band around my wrist over and over again, when Nana steps out of the room.

  “How is he?” I ask, breathless.

  She looks at me, worry in her eyes. “He hasn’t really said much.”

  Squeezing my eyes closed, I count to five before opening them again and letting out a breath.

  “Why don’t you go on in and see him now,” she suggests.

  I look over to Charlie and hold my hand out. He takes it.

  Relief floods me when I walk in. The ventilator is now gone. His eyes are open, and I rush to his side.

  “Nate, it’s me.”

  His eyes lock with mine—a spark of recognition before he glances towards Charlie. His eyelids droop heavily and close again. I sit down and squeeze his arm. Charlie places his hand on my shoulder, neither of us moves until a nurse comes in.

  “If you can please wait outside. I’ll call you back in when I’m finished.”

  I feel like all we’ve done is wait, and quite frankly, it’s taking a toll. I sit down in the seating along the corridor. Placing my face in my hands, I let out a groan of frustration.

  “Come on, it won’t be long,” Evie says, rubbing my back.

  Why didn’t he say anything when he saw us? Is he still mad I left him? What if he doesn’t remember me? What if he can’t forgive me?

  I get up and make my way to the toilet and lock myself in a cubicle. I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste iron. Silent tears fall. I clench my fists until red crescent moons appear. I hold my breath for as long as I can before I release it. I struggle to get my breathing under control before finally opening the cubicle door.

  I’ve been in and out of a hazy sleep.

  A nurse stands beside me. “Hi, You’re in hospital. Can you tell me your full name and date of birth, please?”

  “Nathaniel Lawrence Davenport. Twenty-second of March, nineteen eighty-four.” My throat feels raw, I cough, but it scratches, making it worse.

  “Excellent, are you thirsty?” she asks with a wonky smile.

  I nod. She brings a plastic cup towards me and holds the straw to my mouth. I lean forward and sip, releasing a sigh when I sit back.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Confused, what happened?” I ask, my throat still uncomfortable.

  “Don’t you remember?” she asks, writing on my chart.

  I try to think, but it’s foggy. “Not really, no.”

  “What is the last thing you remember?” she asks, pen poised.

  “I’m not sure…” Why the fuck can’t I remember? My head pounds. I raise my hand and feel a bandage.

  “That’s normal. You’re probably feeling disorientated. It’s to be expected.”

  “Expected… What happened?” My fists clench the sheet beneath me.

  “You had an accident in your workshop. Does that ring any bells?”

  I shake my head, but stop—that isn’t helping with the pain. I close my eyes and think. I don’t have any recollection of having an accident.

  “Okay, let’s try something a little easier. What is the last clear memory you have?”

  I think for a moment. My gut tightens—Gramps is gone. My heart breaks again as I try to breathe through it.

  “I remember the fundraiser, but after that, it’s foggy.”

  “That’s good. I’m going to send for the doctor. She can come and talk to you. Would you like me to send your family back in?”

  I wince and carefully touch my head.

  “Are you in pain?” she asks.

  “My head, and my ribs when I breathe.”

  She pats my leg, but it’s as though I’m having an out of body experience—I saw her do it, but it’s like she was touching someone else’s leg.

  “I will see about getting you a little more pain relief. Does anywhere else hurt more than the other?” she asks, scribbling on the chart.

  “Well, it’s weird… Maybe it’s just me, but did something happen to my legs?”

  She looks at the chart and back to my face. “Are they hurting?”

  “That’s the thing. I can’t seem to feel them,” I croak out.

  She looks to my legs, and then to my face. A blanket of calm washes over her face, but in her eyes, I see it—the uncertainty and concern.

  As soon as she leaves, I try desperately to move my legs. I reach my hand down to my thigh and slap it hard.

  I hear the vibration but feel nothing.

  Nan and Charlie enter.

  “Hi, Nan,” I say hoarsely.

  “Nathaniel. I can’t leave you for one minute,” she says in mock annoyance.

  I bite my lip. “Where did you go?” I know it’s a daft question to ask at a time like this, but to be honest, the whole thing has me completely discombobulated.

  “I went to France with Ana, don’t you remember?”

  I nod, but truth is, I don’t remember. I shake my head once.

  “I’ll fill you in later, it’s not worth getting worked up about. We’re just pleased you’re awake,” Charlie says.

  I’m not even sure how to respond. It’s a lot to take in all at once. It’s like when you go upstairs to your bedroom to get something, but when you get there, for the life of you, you just can’t remember what it was. And the thought terrifies me.

  “Are you okay?”

  I don’t want to lie to her, but I’ve seen her heartbroken over Gramps. I can’t tell her that the last time I felt this scared was when my parents died. I swallow back the lump in my throat. “I’ve been better, but don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

  She pulls out her hankie to conceal her sniffle. Charlie rubs her back.

  “I’m sorry I made you all worry.”

  “Sorry doesn’t quite cut it. If you ever scare me like that again, I’ll kill you myself,” Charlie replies, earning himself a swat on the arm from my Nan.

  “Oh, that’s awful.”

  He gives her a sheepish look and kisses her temple. She shoos him away as she breaks out a small smile.

  “I think a certain someone is desperate to see you,” he says, angling his head toward the door.

  Nan kisses my head. “We’ll be back in soon.”

  I hold up my fist to Charlie and he gives me a quick fist bump in return. I flinch when I get a pain in my ribs. If only I could feel pain in my legs.

  I feel her before I see her.

  When she walks in, I scan her face. She looks as tired as I feel. I can tell she’s nervous. And I feel almost frustrated with her, but I’m not sure why… It’s like when you dream of arguing with someone, and you’re still annoyed with them when you wake up.

  But when her eyes meet mine, all ill thoughts and feelings disintegrate.

  “Sorry, do you work here?” I ask.

  She lets out an audible gasp. Her eyes go wide as she searches my face.

  I smile wide.

  “You arsehole,” she says. She sucks in her bottom lip between her teeth right before she bursts into tears. My chest tightens.

  “Shit, Flick, please don’t cry,” I say and reach for her hand.

  I pull it to my lips and kiss her palm. They look sor
e, but I don’t say anything as I kiss the inside of her wrist.

  “Nate, I thought you might never wake up… I thought I’d lost you.” The sombreness of her words makes my heart skip a beat.

  “I’m awake, it’s okay. Come here,” I say, needing her close.

  She holds still. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she says, stifling a sob.

  I close my eyes before opening them again. “You’ll only hurt me by not letting me hold you…now, come here already.”

  I pull on her arm until she lowers her head. Reaching up, I place my hand on the nape of her neck, pulling her close. I kiss the tip of her nose and wipe away her tears. If there is one thing I haven’t forgotten, it’s how much I love this girl and always will.

  “I have so much to say to you, Nate.”

  “I know, but not now. I hate that you’re this upset because of me.”

  She shakes her head, her hair falling over her shoulders. “I’m not upset. These are happy tears. I’m just so glad you’re awake. It petrified me—seeing you attached to that ventilator. I love you, Nate. Don’t scare me like that again.”

  I suck in a breath. My ribs react in protest. “Did you just say you love me?”

  She raises her eyebrows, her entire face flushing a delicious shade of red. “Yes.”

  “God, I love that you love me too. I never meant to make you all worry.”

  She strokes my face. “We’re just glad you’re all right.” She sits and rests her chin on my arm.

  I want to tell her I’m not all right, about not having any feeling in my legs, but I’m afraid if I say it out loud, it will make it real—too real.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  It’s been a couple of days since I woke up. They’ve advised me to give my body time, that it’s a waiting game until the swelling on my spine goes down. They have me in traction and on bed rest.

  I’m pissed off. Where do they think I’m going to go? I can’t move my legs, for fuck’s sake. I’m also pissed with this goddamn catheter—I feel useless and frustrated. It’s humiliating having complete strangers giving you a sponge bath.

  Flick has been a rock, a real trooper, but I’m finding even she’s rubbing me up the wrong way. I can’t give her what she deserves. I know I’m an insensitive bastard with what I am about to do, but I have no choice. I love her too damn much to keep dragging her down with me. She’ll be better off without me.

  Mid-conversation, I just blurt it out.

  “Felicity,” I say sharply.

  She stops talking, her jaw slack.

  “I want to talk about us.”

  I can see it in her eyes—she knows it isn’t going to be pleasant.

  I clear my throat. “There’s no easy way for me to say this, so I’m just going to come out with it. This thing between you and me isn’t going to work,” I say, pointing my finger back and forth.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” she says crossing her arms.

  “I can’t see us working. I thought I was ready to be in a relationship, but after having this accident, it’s made me realise that I’m not. I’m sorry.”

  “Nate, I don’t believe you.”

  “Believe me, the last thing I want to do is hurt you. It’s why I’m telling you now.”

  She shakes her head stubbornly. “No, you don’t mean it.”

  “We’re over. God, Flick, we never even started,” I say, my eyes burning straight into hers.

  “No,” she says, raising her voice. She drops her hand and hovers over me. This is a side of her I haven’t seen in a long time. I’d smile if the situation weren’t so serious.

  “I want you to leave. I really am sorry, I never meant to hurt you.”

  Her face is a picture, all her features tense. “Nate, you’re scared, I get that, but don’t be a fucking idiot.”

  I think I might laugh when a nurse enters.

  “Everything okay in here?” she asks, glancing between us both.

  “It’s fine,” Flick snaps, which is so unlike her.

  I take that as my cue. “No, it’s not. I want her to leave,” I say, looking straight at the nurse. I keep all my focus on her and off Flick.

  “Nate, don’t do this,” Flick says, her tone pleading. It’s nearly my undoing, but she deserves better after everything she’s already been through.

  It’s why what I am about to say next is even harder.

  “What’s wrong with you? Are you fucking deaf? Go!” I lift myself up in frustration. I let out a groan, pain shooting through me.

  The nurse rushes over to my bedside

  “Nathaniel, I need you to please try and stay calm.” She gently pushes me back towards the pillows.

  “I will as soon as she takes the hint and leaves.” My voice doesn’t even sound like mine—I’ve never felt more ashamed than I do at this moment.

  “Sorry, love, but he needs to stay calm, and this isn’t helping, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.” The nurse looks uncomfortable. I can tell from the way she’s looking at Flick, that she feels sorry for her, but patients do come first and all that.

  Flick strides over to the opposite side of the bed, she takes in a few deep breaths I see rise and fall of her chest. What if she has a panic attack, fuck!

  I’m about to reach out to her but stop myself, biting the inside of my cheek.

  “Fine, Nate, I’ll go. I don’t think it’s what you really want, but I won’t be your emotional punching bag either. If you need to talk, I’m here, but if you don’t want to talk to me, do yourself a favour and talk to a professional. Don’t bottle it up.”

  She storms to the door. “Oh, and Nate, for the record… I’ll be the one to say when we’re over.”

  I blink away the sting in my eyes. She deserves better than a cripple.

  Two days ago, I let Flick leave, thinking I didn’t want to be with her. Since Charlie smuggled my phone in, I’ve been tempted to message. To avoid that, I decided the best thing was to keep it switched off. Besides, I keep telling myself the last thing I want to do is fuck up some poor bastard’s heart monitor.

  I feel so alone, even with the steady flow of visitors. Charlie openly told me he thought I was being a prick where she’s concerned. Then he left it at that. Why any of them are putting up with my bullshit is beyond me. I’ve considered asking how she is, but then I play the martyr instead, and suffer in silence.

  During another zombie-induced snooze, stuck in my sterile prison, the door swings open. The hairs on my arms stand up. Her scent floats over me.

  I look up, and she’s staring straight at me. I look away as my stomach lurches.

  “So, I take it you’re still wallowing in self-pity?” She places a bag down on the tray over my bed. “I’ll take your silence as a yes.”

  I say nothing and avoid making eye contact. I watch her every move as she pulls a laptop from the bag.

  “Oh, and so we both understand one another, I’ve spoken to the ward sister who agrees this—” she waves her hand over me, “—is not doing you any good. We’re going to be left alone. They’ll only come in to do their checks, so don’t try pressing the call button. If something is wrong, I’ll let them know.”

  I forgot how tenacious she could be.

  I reach for the call button and press it, wanting to poke out my tongue.

  She crosses her arms, with an, I told you so look. I don’t want to be caught in her snare, so I lower my eyes and close them. Her breasts look good in that vest top. I roll my head to the side.

  “Like I told you, Nate, no one’s coming to save you.”

  Has she always been this annoying, or is this a new development? I want to say something so badly, but I keep my mouth shut.

  I hear her shuffling around and the rustle of plastic. My curiosity gets the better of me. I turn to see her pulling out popcorn and bags of sweets amongst other things. She struggles to pull the over-sized chair closer to the bed—it makes a god-awful noise as the legs scrape against the floor—until she�
�s satisfied with where she has it positioned.

  I’m mostly lying down in the bed, but it’s low to the ground, so when she finally sits down, the cushioned seat sucking her in, we are the same head height.

  Leaning forward, she grabs the bag of popcorn, opens it and places it next to my elbow. She loads a DVD in the laptop and presses play. I want to roll my eyes when I see what film it is—she’s pulling my own moves on me.

  I see her smile out of the corner of my eye as she rests her feet on the bed rail and grabs a handful of popcorn to settle in to watch the film.

  I close my eyes with the intention of acting like she isn’t here, attempting not to watch the film. But it doesn’t last. I get caught up watching it and smiling at our favourite bits. I even sneak a few handfuls of popcorn. Whipped, totally whipped.

  The film finishes, and she leans forward, rubbing her hands together. The creaking of the fake leather armchair makes itself known. “Right, are you ready to talk yet? Or shall we move on to film number two?”

  I ignore her question. She shrugs and ejects the disc, replacing it with a new one. “Film number two it is then.”

  My eyes dart between her and the film. I find myself desperate to sing along to Rocking Robin at the opening credits of Stand By Me. She’s really pulled out the big guns.

  I wiggle my toes.

  I hold my breath. Shit, did I just wiggle my toes?

  I calm my nerves and continue to watch the film. Surely, that was just my imagination, right?

  Stand By Me by Ben E King plays, letting us know the film’s finished.

  “I have nowhere else to be. I have enough DVD’s for a movie marathon and then some.”

  I keep my mouth shut but find myself beginning to relax for the first time since I woke up here. I act like I’m indifferent by it all. But it’s nice—her being here. She brings me peace. I could have had this the whole time if I hadn’t kicked her out.

  A nurse enters, checking the catheter and my obs before she hands over my pain relief in a small, plastic cup. I watch Flick on her phone when she hops to her feet.

  “It’s about time,” she says, walking toward the door. “I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere.”