the leg, but she doesn’t even look up and acknowledge her mother. “The doctors are going to get you set up with a therapist. You need to go once a week. Please, don’t hurt yourself, please. If I lose you…”
“Let’s go, honey,” Travis growls from the doorway.
I want to tell the fucker that he should care more about his daughter, but you can’t make someone care. They either do, or they don’t.
Claudia wipes some tears from her face and kisses Kennedy on the forehead before walking toward the doors, turning toward me before she reaches the threshold. “Please, take care of her, and call me if anything happens, day or night.”
“Will do,” I tell her. She nods and walks out of the room without looking back. I hate how self-absorbed Kennedy’s parents are. They should’ve seen how much she was hurting.
I should’ve seen how much she was hurting.
“Are you ready to go?” I ask, keeping my voice gentle.
She doesn’t look at me as she speaks, “Why are you still here?”
Patience isn’t my strong suit, but I’ll do anything for Kennedy, so I bury my emotions and remind myself it’s going to take time. She is not going to accept me being here.
“I promised your mom I would stay and take care of you so you can continue going to school. I didn’t think you wanted to go home.”
“I don’t, but I also don’t want to be with the person that pushed me into this hospital bed.”
Fuck that stings, but I deserve that. I deserve to feel her anger and pain. I’m ready to be battered by her because I fucking deserve it. I’ll be her whipping post, and the person she needs to hold her together.
“I understand that, and I’m going to make this right. Fix everything that I did.”
“I’m not a broken picture frame. You can’t fix me.”
“I’m not trying to fix you, bug. I’m fixing myself. I’m here because I want to be. Because I owe it to you.”
“I don’t want you here.” She lifts her gaze, and there’s a haunting look in her eyes. I want to go to her, wrap my arms around her and tell her everything is going to be okay, but I wouldn’t dare. Not now. It’s too soon.
“I know, but I’m here, and that’s not going to change.” Exhaling, I look down at my hands. Blood. So much blood. I’ll never be able to forget the way I found her. The fact that I caused her that much pain and pushed her to kill herself. I owe her this. “Are you ready to go?” I ask again.
She doesn’t say anything, and I decide to take the initiative to get us going. Maybe she’ll feel better when we get back to her apartment. Calling for the nurse, I get her a wheelchair and wheel it into the room.
Kennedy pretends as if I’m not there as she slowly pushes off the bed and into a standing position. Pain flicks across her features, and I feel it in my gut, like a dull knife blade digging into my skin. Out of reflex, I offer her my hand, but she smacks it away, hissing at the contact, almost as if I’ve burned her.
“Let me help you,” I plead.
“No,” she grits out through her teeth. “I’d rather feel every ounce of pain than let you touch me again.”
Her words pelt me like blocks of ice, but I expect them. Expect her to lash out, to hate me, to curse me forever.
The nurse returns a moment later with discharge papers.
“Please, remember to inspect the wounds and make sure that they’re clean. We’ve sent over an antibiotic and pain reliever to the pharmacy. The doctor would like her to resume classes in a few days. If you have any problems, give us a call.”
Kennedy grunts and takes the papers from the nurse, scribbling her name across the signature area.
“Thank you,” I tell the nurse and start to wheel her out of the room. We make it to the front doors, and I park the wheelchair before turning to her.
“I’m going to go get my SUV, I’ll be right back.” As expected, I get no response, and she turns her head away from me like a child. I go and get my car, driving up to the pick-up area as fast as I can. I almost sigh with relief when I find Kennedy still sitting there, her hands in her lap. God, she looks so fragile and broken.
I did that