Page 65 of Don't Regret Me
Franklin. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to laugh or punch the guy again. How had he not noticed his wife sleeping with the assistant, who spent most of his time catering to Nick’s needs?
Had he been so involved in himself that he hadn’t seen it, or had he just not cared? Sherrie wasn’t the only one to blame for the destruction of their marriage. It had never been a love match, never a true relationship. She’d lied about that, taking advantage of his memory loss.
He still couldn’t believe she was the reason he ended up in the coma in the first place.
A knock sounded on the door, and he looked up as a nurse wheeled Liz into the room. One arm was wrapped in bandages that looked to extend down her torso under the loose hospital gown. Her hair was singed in places, and dark streaks stretched down her face. Nick assumed he looked just as rough as she did.
“You’re beautiful,” he pushed out, reaching for the tiny cup of water on the table beside the bed. It barely wet his dry throat.
“Strange thing to say in this state.” Only her expression shifted. The rest of her body was ramrod straight, frozen in place, as if moving caused her pain.
“You’re still here, and that makes you unbelievably gorgeous.”
She offered a smile, part sad and part relieved. “We have got to stop meeting like this.”
That made him laugh, and each jolt of his body sent an ache right into his lungs. “Every couple has to have their thing. Ours is nearly dying.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
He studied her, every part of her he remembered from their time at the lake. She looked different now that he could see that woman in his head, more somehow. Their history stretched back further than he’d known and it rounded her out. All the things he’d wanted to learn were already in his head. Liz was a spectacular mother who loved her kids more than he’d ever loved anyone. He’d gotten to learn that about her twice now.
She was fearless in an unassuming way. No one would find her jumping out of planes or climbing mountains, but she faced life with a bullish beauty, taking every illness it dealt her and being strong for the people who needed her.
She believed in the good in everything, even him. His time with her had made him a better person, and he hadn’t even known it. He’d woken from the coma different than he was before.
“Heaven help me, I love you.”
Her smile fell. Not exactly the response he’d imagined. “Nick.”
He shook his head, reaching a hand out. The nurse, who hadn’t even tried to hide the fact she was listening, pushed the wheelchair forward so Liz could take his hand.
“I’m just so glad you’re okay.”
She met his gaze before dropping her eyes to their interlacing fingers. “You got them out,” she whispered. “Ev and Owen. They’re safe because of you.”
“If it hadn’t been me, one of the firemen would have gotten to them.”
A tear slipped down her cheek, dropping onto their hands. “And me? You ran in after me while I tried to get that stupid story.”
He loved her more for trying to save the last thing Stephen ever wrote. “I’d have gone after it too.”
And now, it was ashes, mixed in with those of the house that inspired the words. Nick would always regret waiting so long to share Stephen’s script with the world. Now, he’d never get to turn them into anything more, to make his brother’s dream come true.
She lifted his hand, pressing a kiss to it. “I’m so sorry, Nick. I know how much that place meant to you.”
She wasn’t wrong, but it was only a house.
“Stephen isn’t there.” He sighed. “Not anymore. It was just walls, just stuff. The memories, I have all of those now. They’re what’s important. You, you’re important. If I’d have lost you…” He wouldn’t have been able to live with himself. And yet, he had a sinking feeling, like a premonition, that he could lose her anyway.
“I’m glad you remember.” She smiled, but the sadness in her eyes betrayed the gesture. “I should get back to my room.” She looked up at her nurse and nodded. Her hand slipped from his, slowly at first and then all at once. Maybe it was a metaphor. Maybe it meant nothing at all.
When the door shut behind her, the silence was too loud, the solitude too crowded.
His mind, once empty of the memories he’d wanted so desperately to find, now too full.
And the heart hammering in his chest, the one that almost stopped beating, no longer belonged to him. Instead, it floated in the space between life and death, the world he’d found when there should have been nothing but empty darkness. A place where falling in love had been easy and waking up the cruelest thing of all.
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