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I frown.
“They w-want me to try instead. Sit with her. Be with her when she wakes up,” he goes on before I can ask him to elaborate. “Apparently, she was confused and disoriented when they found her. They’re not sure how bad it is yet—the…the trauma. Her memories… She?—”
“She might not remember us?”
Jaw tightening, he nods. “Doctor said it was a possibility.” He swallows with an audible click. “It happens with cases like this, I guess, I don’t know. They figure if there’s anyone bound to jog her memory—provide some kind of comfort—it’d be me.”
“Oh. Makes sense.”
“Sorry.”
My brow furrows, and I shake my head. “Why are you?—”
“We should really get back.” Running his fingers through his hair, he steps to the side and goes to brush past me. “I need to?—”
Whipping a hand out, I clutch his bicep, halting him mid-step. His fingers still in their restless worrying.
Standing side to side, facing opposite ways, he’s got his face still cast downward, and I’ve got mine angled toward him, my mouth inches from his ear.
“Will you please look at me?” I ask thickly.
He swallows, gasps, and screws his eyes shut like he’s in pain. He drops his hand, shaking his head in a quick, jerky movement.
“Jeremy,” I utter brokenly.
“I can’t.”
“This doesn’t chan?—”
He snaps his head around, his gaze crashing into mine so fast, I rear back. And in a guttural voice, he says, “It changes everything.”
The words wrench out of him with so much force, I half expect my body to curl over with the impact.
My fingers dig into his arm, and I open my mouth to refute it…
Only nothing comes out.
He nods, a knowing sheen overtaking his already too-bright eyes. “It’s okay,” he says near-soundlessly. My gaze drops to his mouth when he repeats it, tracing the shape of each syllable, trying to make it make sense. It’s okay.
It’s okay.
It’s okay.
“This is a good thing,” he says slowly, meaningfully.
Eyes and throat blazing, I search his face for the lie.
This has to be a trick.
There’s no fucking way this is really happening right now. Not now, not after?—
“Jeremy?” a voice calls out, just as footsteps register.
We pull away from each other in perfect synchrony, putting what feels like an ocean of distance between us, just as Ray Montgomery rounds the corner.
“Mason,” he says.
Clearing my throat, I blink a couple times, composing myself before turning and facing Ray head-on.
