Page 104 of Choosing Skyler

Me: Okay. I love you, man.

Devon: Love you, too.

I stare at the picture of Skyler sleeping soundly and it eases the anxiety that’s been circling my mind and my chest the past few hours since they left. When I can’t hold my eyes open anymore, I let the exhaustion take me.

…Bang…Bang…

I wake with a jolt and pain like I’ve just been shot again.

“No! Skyler!” I cry out, frantically looking around for her.

The nurse rushes in and assures me that I’m okay.

“Skyler! Where’s Skyler?” I say, trying to get up.

“Please lay back, Brady. She’s okay. I talked with her a few minutes ago. She’ll be here when visiting hours start in an hour,” she says calmly but sternly, gently pushing my shoulder to keep me in the bed.

My chest rises and falls with my heavy breaths as I try to remember what happened. I reach for my phone with a shaking hand, swiping the screen to see the photo of Skyler and it instantly eases some of my panic. I dial her number and let out a relieved breath when she answers on the first ring.

“Good morning, Hot Stuff,” she says in a cheery voice. “We’re on the way. We’ll be there waiting for them to let us in at nine. Do you want me to bring you anything?” She asks and waits for my reply. “Brady?” she says with worry when I don’t speak.

I’m still trying to catch my breath. “Here…” is all I can get out.

“You’re okay, Brady. You’re safe. Breathe with me,” she says before breathing slowly but heavily enough for me to hear her through the phone.

“I’m okay,” I tell her. “I just needed you… To hear your voice. I’m okay.” I try to control the panic in my voice, but I know she hears it. “Stay with me… on the phone… Please,” I say a little more controlled.

“I’m right here, Brady. I’ve got you, okay?” she says, emotion making her voice crack.

“We’ve got you, man. We’ll be there in about ten minutes,” Devon says in the background.

The nurse tells them to come straight to the I.C.U. when they arrive, and she’ll let them in early since it’s “in the best interest of the patient.” We stay on the phone until they enter my room. I end the call and smile up at them, trying to reassure them that I’m okay. They’re not fooled, but at least they don’t call me out on it.

Chapter 38

Skyler

Brady is finally going home today. After two days in the I.C.U. and another five days in the hospital, he’s more than ready. I’ve been attending my appointments with Dr. Anderson via Facetime, and I cancelled my speech therapy appointments. I was only continuing them because I was hoping to regainmyvoice, but that has moved to the bottom of my priority list. I can talk and everyone I love seems to love my new voice anyways.

Timothy kept his promise to make sure Brady’s house was completely cleaned after the police released it the day after the shooting. I haven’t been back inside, though. I stayed with Devon and Timothy while Brady was in intensive care and then I was able to stay with Brady in the hospital once he was moved to a regular room. When Devon went to get my suitcase, he said that it was like the shooting never happened. The laundry room and garage were completely cleaned, and the front door has been replaced.

Devon will be flying back to Thorngrove tomorrow morning, but Brady and I will be here for another week since the doctor doesn’t want him to fly so soon after his surgery. We’ll come back to the hospital for Brady to get his stiches removed next Wednesday and if everything is alright, we’ll fly out on Thursday.

That will be cutting it close for us to prepare for school the following Monday, but we only have two physical classes at school since we had already registered for online classes for the rest after my attack. Hopefully, the school year will be much less eventful than our summer has been.

Devon parks the car in the driveway so that we can walk up the path to the front door without going in through the garage. Brady tenses next to me as we enter the house. We all tried to talk him into staying at Timothy’s house instead of here, but he insisted that he willnotbe run out of his home. He’s braver than I am. I still can’t imagine going back into Chelsea’s Coffee House after what happened to me there and that was nowhere near as severe as being shot.

“Are you sure…” I start, but Brady stops me with a finger on my lips.

“I’m fine, Beautiful. This is ourhome. Eric is dead. There’s nothing to be afraid of here,” he says, and I get the impression that’s he’s trying to convince himself as much as he’s trying to reassure me.

I nod as I kick my shoes off inside the front door before heading toward the stairs. Brady grabs my hand to stop me, and I glance back to see that he’s looking through the library into the kitchen with a clenched jaw. His eyes meet mine and I see the determination in his gaze. I don’t know ifI’mready to walk into that laundry room, let alone if he’s ready, but I have to be with him if he’s going to do it. I can’t let him face it alone. I hear Devon’s heavy sigh behind us as we turn to walk through the library.

“You don’t have to do this right now, Brady,” Devon says, but Brady throws his hand up, stopping him.

I reach behind me with my free hand and Devon latches onto it in support. Brady’s grip on my hand tightens as he opens the laundry room door. I squeeze my eyes shut until I hear his relieved sigh. I open my eyes and look to the spot Brady was lying after he was shot, then to the spot where Eric fell in the doorway to the garage expecting some proof of the carnage that took place to still be there. Devon wasn’t exaggerating. The room is spotless.

“See? It’s just a room,” Brady says and I’m still not sure if he’s talking to us or himself.

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