all. Broth and orange Jell-O wasn’t real food, and for the first time, his stomach rumbled at the thought of eating something more substantial.
“Rhys,” Martin said, clearing his throat, “this is Jill from our rock climbing group. She was on the mountain with you when you…had the accident.”
“She was?” A silence descended on the room. He was supposed to know this person? He studied the anxious lines around her eyes, hoping something would register.
She stepped closer. “I’m glad to see you doing better.”
When his stomach sloshed uneasily, he was suddenly glad they hadn’t offered him anything more to eat.
“Were you hurt too?” he asked, but he didn’t notice any bumps or bandages on her.
“No, I was able to dodge most of it. If you want, I can tell you more…”
His brain began spinning, and when he moved his hand to his forehead, he cried out in pain. His mom stepped up at once, trying to get him more comfortable. “We’re just going to take it easy for now. You can fill in the blanks later.”
“I’m sorry,” Jill said, her cheeks turning bright red, and she excused herself from the room.
“Shoot, she didn’t have to leave,” Rhys said in an irritated tone.
Logically, he knew what happened to him was huge, given his mom’s and Carl’s whispers and bits of words he’d heard thrown around like head trauma and brain swelling, but his thoughts were still a jumbled mess that couldn’t be tethered together. Still, the heavy tension in the room was practically suffocating him, and it frustrated the hell out of him.
“It’s okay. I’ll go talk to her. She’s been worried,” Martin said. “It’s good to see you awake, man.”
He wished he could picture the accident in vivid detail, but his mind was blank when it came to that event.
“Was the climb epic?” he asked, zeroing in on Martin. “Before the accident, I mean?”
It was the first time Martin grinned. “Definitely.”
“Figures I can’t remember it,” he mumbled, sinking back against the sheets.
Sleep. Sleep would make the murky shadows recede for a while.
“Tell Jill I’d love to talk to her another time.”
He shut his eyes, blotting out the world, and though the buzzing in his brain quieted, he still couldn’t shake one major missing detail.
“Emerson,” he mumbled. “Where is he?”
He felt his mom’s warm hand on his shoulder. “He’ll be back tonight after work.”
“This time he needs to wake me up. I need—”
“I’ll let him know.”
Satisfied, he let the exhaustion pull him into slumber.
4
Emerson
“He won’t remember, will he?” Audrey asked in a defeated voice.
“You shouldn’t eavesdrop on my conversations,” Emerson replied, setting his cell on the counter, his stomach uneasy.
He wished she’d never witnessed the kiss between him and Rhys. Since then, she’d brought it up a handful of times or had given him knowing looks that did not sit well with him. Especially since it was most certainly unfinished business. And after that phone call, maybe forever. “We’re gonna leave well enough alone.”
“But why?” She folded her arms, pouting.
“Because it’ll be too overwhelming for Rhys to remember certain details.” Like the fact that he’d kissed his best friend. Maybe for Rhys their meeting of lips had been lukewarm, or even standard, or not nearly as earth-shattering as it had been for Emerson. Rhys had been with plenty of guys, whereas for Emerson, Rhys had been his first.
He added, “We don’t even know how much of his memory is missing.”
“You said the last year of his life. I heard you!”
His shoulders slumped. From what Mrs. Lancaster just shared, Rhys didn’t recognize Jill, and though the nurse had said details from the accident could be spotty, Jill was also a newer member of their climbing group. New as in she’d joined them last August, which was how they’d pieced together the timeframe.
Add in other nuggets of information Mrs. Lancaster had gleaned from Rhys—like the fact that he didn’t recall their visits from Christmas or spring break—and the timeline of his lapse seemed to add up. Thankfully Rhys did seem to recall the bigger events of his life: key points of his childhood, and his mom’s engagement and subsequent move.
But not all the big things, clearly. Or rather, not the hugest thing that had happened in the past year as far as Emerson was concerned, meaning that kiss.
And then there was the fact that they hadn’t talked after Rhys had kissed him, so Rhys was unaware of how that had stirred up and brought to the surface so many feelings that had seemed locked