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He let Ali walk, slow step after slow step, back to the bed. She sat on the mattress, finally looking up at him. “I can’t remember,” she cried, each tear, each small shake of her shoulders as she tried hard to suppress them, only bringing more pain. “I’m so confused. I’m so tired.”
Cornell didn’t look away from Ali. He reached down, lifting her feet, covering her legs. “I know,” he spoke quietly. “Sleep now. I’ll be here when you wake up this time. I promise.”
Ali nodded and sighed when his hand covered hers. It was warm and soft but also certain and true. Ali couldn’t remember hitting a tree or pole. She couldn’t remember the crunch of metal or the sound of the airbag deploying. She hardly remembered dropping Graham off at his house.
But in the sea of uncertainty, as the warmth from Cornell’s hand seemed to branch out and cover her entire body, Ali was confident of one thing—she needed Cornell more than she ever could have imagined or dreamed of.
* * *
“Just looking at this makes me nauseous. It’s not a fair test.” She picked a grape out of the small fruit cup and put it in her mouth, twisting her mouth at its bitterness. Ali had just woken up again, feeling a little more alert, and the nurse didn’t waste a moment trying to shove a tray of food in front of her.
Cornell nudged the tray closer. “You can’t really mess up toast,” he said, picking a piece up. “Or maybe you can.” He sighed heavily. “I brought donuts. Your mom confiscated them and gave them to the nurses.”
Ali took a bite of the toast from Cornell’s hand. It tasted like cardboard. She pulled her head back. “Enough for now.”
“How about soup?” He frowned when she shook her head. “Ali, you have to eat something. They’re not going to let you out until you do.”
She laid her head back against the pillow. “Maybe in a little bit.” Ali didn’t want to tell Cornell that while it was sweet, she hated watching him baby her, feed her like she couldn’t herself, even though, at the moment, the idea of holding a spoon was exhausting.
“What do you want?” Cornell asked. “I’ll go get it. Forget this bland food business. You need some energy.” He stood, reaching for his keys on the small table beside her bed.
Ali turned her head, following his movements. “Don’t,” she said, struck by the panic in her voice at the thought of him leaving. “Can you just stay here until you have to go to practice?” She looked at the clock. There was still an hour before he had to leave and go back to Hopperville.
“You think I’m going to work?” Cornell shook his head angrily. “While you’re lying in the hospital? Are you out of your mind?”
Ali smiled. “I mean, I am a little bit out of my mind right now. But you need to go.”
“No, I don’t. I already told Evan I’d be out today and tomorrow. Please eat. I want to take you home and take care of you there.” Cornell pouted. “What do you want? I’ll sneak it in better this time.”
“Nothing.” She reached over for the half-eaten piece of toast and took a small bite, forcing it down. “You need to go walk Mowgli, though, and stay with him for a little. You know he’ll be upset if he’s alone for too long.”
Cornell sat back in the chair. “Mowgli’s fine with Grandpa.” He smiled at Ali’s confused look. “My dad is staying a few days. I don’t know, after what happened… just to make sure everything’s okay.”
To make sure you’re okay, Ali wanted to remind him, and the thought of Peter present to support Cornell was heartwarming—the only thing she felt beyond pain, exhaustion, and confusion the whole day. But it also tore at her heart.
“Was I so bad last night?” she asked, wincing as she bit down on her split lip.
Cornell handed her a small cup of water with a straw, waiting as she sipped it. He remained quiet.
Ali released the straw. “How bad?”
Her eyes stayed focused on Cornell as he shrugged, placing the cup on the tray table and moving it away. She wished so terribly that it all had been a dream—a nightmare—but the look on Cornell’s face told her otherwise.
His mouth was clamped shut, and there was just the slightest drooping to his ordinarily wide-open eyes. The deep brown orbs alternated between fiercely looking at Ali as if they were consuming her from head to toe and hardly looking at her at all, instead glancing uneasily around the room at anyone who entered it. His body was tense, on edge.
“Last night was tough,” was all Cornell said and the few words coupled with the distress Ali could tell he was trying to bury brought a pout to her face.
“I scared you, didn’t I?” Ali asked, guilt gnawing at her insides that unintentionally or not, she was the cause of that look. “I’m so sorry.”
Cornell’s eyes flew to hers. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he told her with a shake of his head. “It was an accident, Ali. As scary as it was, I’m so fucking happy that you’re right here in front of me.” His voice cracked, burdened with heavy emotion—fear, relief, pain, and elation all rolled into one sound.
Cornell reached for her hand, dusting it with feather-light kisses. He held it between his two before placing it on his cheek, closing his eyes, and Ali knew he was trying to hold the tears back.
No, no. I can’t handle that, Ali thought as her heart squeezed.
“Don’t cry, please,” she said. Seeing Cornell sad somehow seemed worse than the pain and the confusion combined. Tall and tough Cornell falling to torturous pieces was a sight Ali never wanted to get used to. “Please. I hate to see you sad.”
He nodded against her hand, but when he opened his eyes, the glistening was still there—he was almost crying just as Ali realized maybe she had almost been too unlucky.
