Page 76 of Ashes of Us
Not after Jenna. Not after what I'd done. Not after I'd looked her in the eye for four months and lied.
"She sat with us," Mom continued, and her voice had gone soft in that way it did when she was trying not to cry again. "Through the whole surgery. Didn't leave until—" She stopped. "We told her she could go in and see you. Before you woke up."
My heart was doing something stupid in my chest. Something that hurt worse than the broken ribs.
She'd seen me. Been in this room. Stood next to this bed while I was unconscious and broken and?—
"She left before you woke up," Dad added, like he could read my mind. Like he knew I was about to ask if she was still here. "Said we should be with you when you came around. Not her."
Not her.
Right. Because she wasn't mine. Hadn't been mine in a long time. Had moved on with someone better, someone who didn't cheat on her and destroy everything good in his life.
"Did she say anything?" I asked, and immediately hated how desperate I sounded.
Mom reached over and squeezed my hand again. "She said to tell you she's glad you're okay."
Glad I was okay.
Five words, that's all I got. Five words that meant she was a good person who didn't wish me dead, even after everything I'd done to her.
It shouldn't have felt like much.
It felt like everything.
CHAPTER 30: PIPER
Two weeks after the hospital, I stopped thinking about Liam.
This is a lie, of course. I thought about him every day. But I told myself I didn't, which is almost the same thing when you're trying to convince yourself you've moved on.
The bakery helped. As always, work always helped. There's something meditative about kneading dough at the crack of dawn, something that drowns out everything else—the questions you don't want to answer, the feelings you don't want to feel, the memory of a man lying unconscious in a hospital bed while you stood there like an idiot trying to figure out why your hands were shaking.
I'd gone back to my routine. Laps at 5:45 AM. Bakery by 6:30. The usual customers with their usual orders. Mrs. Kowalski and her crossword puzzle. The bookstore guy and his two coffees. The rhythm of it was comforting in the way that routines are when you're trying very hard not to think about things.
Maya asked once if I'd heard from Liam. I told her no, which was true, and that I wasn't expecting to, which was also true, andthat I was fine, which was the biggest lie of all but she let me have it anyway because that's what sisters do.
Daniel texted from Portland. He was settling in, had a new apartment, and the job was good. He didn't mention Liam and neither did I.
I was fine.
I was moving on.
I was absolutely, completely fine.
Then I saw him at the grocery store.
It was a Tuesday. I'd gone in after closing for milk and eggs and the kind of impulse purchases you make when you're tired: dark chocolate, fancy cheese, a bottle of wine I didn't need. I was in the cereal aisle, debating between two identical boxes of granola, when I looked up and there he was.
Three aisles over. In the pasta section. Reaching for a jar of sauce with his left hand because his right arm was in a sling.
My heart did something stupid.
I looked away immediately, focusing very hard on the granola nutrition labels like they contained the secrets of the universe. Maybe he hadn't seen me. Maybe I could just?—
"Piper."
Damn it.
