settle in, and when it did, I bolted upright with only one thought on my mind: Jake. Logic told me someone would’ve woken me up if something had happened, so that wasn’t necessarily bad, was it? It meant there hadn’t been any change, which was neither bad nor good. And at least he was still here. If he was here, that meant there was a chance and any chance was better than none.
I left the room to find Audrey and her mother sitting on the couch with plates of pizza in hand. Ann looked at me, laying her plate on the coffee table, before standing to approach me.
“Oh, honey, I don’t know what to say, except that I’m so sorry,” she said, reaching up to wrap her arms around my neck.
Hugging her, I nodded and admitted, “I don’t know what to say either, so … thanks.”
“You let me know if you need anything, okay? Anything at all. You need dinners? I got you covered. Laundry? Cleaning? Just let me know. Please.”
“I will,” I assured her, continuing to nod.
Audrey stood up, empty plate in hand, and asked, “Are you hungry? You wanna eat something?”
“Um,” my stomach grumbled in reply and I nodded, “yeah, I think I could eat.”
She hurried into the kitchen to grab me a slice. Ann released me from her grasp and encouraged me to take a seat. But I’d been laying down for so long, I still wasn’t sure how long I’d been sleeping. I needed to do something proactive, something useful.
“Hey, Audrey, where’s my phone?” I asked, sweeping my gaze over the living room.
“Oh, it’s right here,” she called to me, and a few moments later, she came back into the living room with a slice of pizza and my phone in hand. “I charged it while you were sleeping.”
I thanked her sincerely, kissing her forehead before finally taking a seat. I ate, surprised to find myself so hungry, as I checked my phone for messages. Both of my parents had texted me periodically, giving me the infrequent updates throughout the day.
“How’s he doing?” Audrey asked, sitting beside me.
After reading the last message and breathing a sigh of relief, I told her, “Well, he’s still in the coma, but the swelling on his brain has gone down significantly.”
“That’s good!” Ann chimed in optimistically.
“Yeah,” I nodded, “Dad said that, even though Jake’s definitely not out of the woods, things are looking better than they did before.” I put the phone down and scrubbed a hand over my chin as I went on, “I mean, even if he pulls through and wakes up, there’s no guaranteeing what kind of damage has been done, but—”
“Stop,” Audrey cut in gently, moving closer and propping her chin on my shoulder. “Take the good news and let yourself feel happy about it before you shoot it down.”
“I’m just being realistic,” I replied, touching my head to hers.
“Yeah, honey, I know,” Ann said. “And I know you don’t want to get your hopes all the way up either, but it never hurt to be just a little hopeful.”
They were right, I knew they were, so I allowed myself a moment to read the text from my father again. The one in which he told me the swelling had decreased and things were looking better, complete with a praying hands emoji. Dad never used emojis and I took it as a good sign.
Signs. Souls. Fate. Gifts. God.
Jake’s ability to see auras had been a gift. Audrey said so, and I believed her now. A slew of breadcrumbs—signs—had brought Audrey and me together, and I believed that now, too. I believed that Audrey herself, was a gift to me, the perfect mate to my imperfect soul, and if I believed all of this, then I knew I must also believe in God.
And if I believed in that, then there was a chance that something, whatever it was, was listening. And maybe they—He, Her, It, whatever—would care about what I had to say.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“BLAKE,” Dr. Travetti greeted me, rushing toward me as I walked into her office forty minutes late. She surprised me with a hug. “God, I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, Doc. Doesn’t this violate some kind of doctor-patient code or something?”
She stepped back with a roll of her eyes. “I think we can make an exception this time,” she quipped, attempting a smile I knew she didn’t feel. “I guess it’s a stupid question to ask how you’ve been.”
“Uh, yeah,” I nodded, walking toward the chair I