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“What’s up, Porter?” Cornell scratched the golden retriever’s ears when he walked into Bobbi and John’s house. “Sorry, I didn’t bring your sidekick.”
“Cornell?” Bobbi called from the kitchen.
John and Celeste were sitting at the counter when he walked into the kitchen. Cornell bent to give Ali’s grandmother a kiss on the cheek.
“I’m just happy it wasn’t both of you in that car,” Celeste said, squeezing his hand. It was a rare moment to catch the normally witty, older woman spitting out anything but a sharp comment from her mouth.
Cornell squeezed her hand back.
Bobbi moved to the oven, turning it off. “Dinner is in the oven. I hope you’re hungry.”
He nodded. “Ali upstairs?”
John shook his head. “We thought she’d be better off in the guest room down here. So if she’s feeling up to it, she can get around easily without dealing with stairs.”
“I’ll go check on her.” He took the bag filled with mostly Ali’s things—more clothes, the face cream he forgot to bring to the hospital, her iPad—and left the kitchen, walking through the house to the downstairs bedroom. Cornell thought Ali might be asleep since she was lying so still, eyes closed. He quietly placed the bag on the floor beside the dresser and then turned his head sharply when he heard a quiet sob.
“What’s wrong?” Cornell rushed to her side. “Do you need more medicine?”
Ali shook her head, her hand pulling at the opening of his sweatshirt.
“Are you too hot? I brought—”
“I lost it,” she whispered, nose blocked.
Cornell wiped at her cheeks. “Lost what?”
Ali turned her head to face him. “I lost the necklace. I’m so sorry.”
“Do you really think I give a shit about that? You could’ve lost your life. I’ll buy you a new one. I’ll buy you whatever you want, just please don’t cry.” He could see each sob brought a flash of pain across her face, and his heart twisted.
“I’m so sorry,” Ali blubbered. “I don’t know what happened to it.” There was the slightest cringe of her body that Cornell didn’t understand. But chances were, it came off somewhere between her car smashing into the pole, the pole falling and crushing the car, or the paramedics yanking her out kicking and screaming.
Cornell hushed Ali, sliding into the empty space beside her. He lay on his side, pushing the hair from her face.
“Stop. Don’t apologize. I’ll call the hospital. Maybe someone took it off when they brought you in.” It was a long shot, but Cornell couldn’t give two shits about the piece of jewelry. He would say anything to calm Ali down. “You deserve something nicer, anyway.”
He continued to stroke Ali’s hair, feeling grateful for the heat of her body and the movement of her chest as her breathing steadied. Cornell reached with his other hand to pull Ali’s away from the opening of the sweatshirt, rubbing his finger across her knuckles and dropping a kiss.
A ring. I’m giving this girl a ring. And I don’t want to wait.
“I don’t want to sleep more,” Ali groaned, frustrated. “But I’m so tired.”
“You need rest if you’re going to heal. I need you to heal so your mom lets me take you home.” He smiled against her tenderly.
When she’s on her feet, I’ll do it. I’ll give her Mom’s ring.
Ali stayed silent, managing a small nod, unable to argue with him or her own body. When he was confident she slipped into another world of dreams, he reached down, pulling up the throw blanket folded neatly at the foot of the bed, tucking it around her. “I’m going to marry you,” he promised into her hair, his voice a whisper.
“When you’re better, I’m going to marry you. And we’re going to have a lot of babies. I need a full offense.”
Cornell kept whispering promises of the future—of their future—against her skin. His mind was eager to chase them, to tick each off the list marking them memories instead of dreams so that years from now, Cornell would look back at her accident, and the fear it ignited within his heart and soul would only be one fumbled play in a game they won together.
* * *
Cornell crept carefully out of bed. He had been trying to sleep for over an hour, something he thought would be an easy feat given just how little sleep he got the night before. But Cornell tossed and turned, and Ali—who had woken only to be force-fed soup—began to stir from his restlessness. He crept out of the bedroom to the kitchen for water before realizing that something stronger might help him sleep.
Crossing the sleeping house, Cornell went to the den. He was so tired he didn’t realize that a small table lamp was on and that John was sitting in the club chair.
