Page 100 of Cluelessly Yours

“Scott Shepard,” Kendall says. “He’s the one who sutured your head.”

“Well, that’s good news,” I say, offering a teasing smile toward Dale. “Lord knows Dale is the last person I’d want suturing anything on my body.”

Dale doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even flash a vulgar finger in my direction. Instead, he watches his wife intently as she continues to evaluate me—she’s currently focused on the reflexes of my arms and legs while he carefully avoids eye contact with the rest of the room.

It’s kind of odd. Honestly, I can’t remember the last time I saw Dale being anything but a cutup. But then again, this is my first coma, so what the fuck do I know?

Maybe he’s taking it hard?

I try to make eye contact with Sammy, but her eyes are too busy to snag, even in passing. They’re hard at work, bouncing between Ashley and Dale. When I look at Brooke, she’s doing the same damn thing.

What in the hell is going on?

“What is your deal?” Kendall asks Dale on an annoyed laugh. “If you stand any closer to me, you’ll literally be up my ass, hun. Mind giving me some space so I can finish evaluating Noah?”

Dale doesn’t respond, but he does try to comply, if poorly.

Kendall sighs and continues her evaluation, her attention now on listening to my heart, lungs, and bowel function with her stethoscope.

And Sammy and Brooke are still playing some weird version of eyeball ping-pong.

Truthfully, my head is starting to fucking hurt from trying to understand what is going on in this room.

There’s a part of me that wonders if this is all some kind of hallucination. Like, maybe I’ve dreamed that I’ve woken up, but I haven’t woken up at all?

“Noah, everything is looking really good,” Kendall updates and slides her stethoscope back over her shoulders. “I still want to do a follow-up MRI on your head, as well as a follow-up CT of your abdomen to make sure yourspleen is behaving and there’s not anything else we missed. But other than that, I think you’re well on your way to a full recovery.”

“Great news,” Dale says, but his voice is quieter than normal. “Now, let’s head on out, babe, and let Noah rest.”

Kendall looks at him, her expression half bewilderment and half annoyance, evidently feeling as fed up as I am. “Seriously? What is your deal?”

He clears his throat and leans closer to her to whisper, “Nothing, babe. I just think we need to give Noah some space.”

While they quietly bicker back and forth, I focus my attention back on Sammy. My head might feel fuzzy as fuck, but I know for a fact that the reason we’re both in this damn hospital has everything to do with her walking away from me. I know that when I left the conscious plane, she was not in any way comfortable with the thought of me having a baby with another woman. Hell, neither was I.

But I don’t know.Maybe the accident changed how she felt?

“Sammy.” I lift my hand, reaching for hers, only capable of brushing her fingertips with mine.

She looks down at me, and I search her eyes. “Are you okay?” I ask, and she nods. It’s not enough for me. “Seriously, Sammy, I think we need to—”

“Noah,” she says, cutting me off before I can finish. “Everything is good.”

“But Sammy, I really—”

“Noah, everything is good. Seriously.” She steps closer to squeeze my hand. “I promise.”

“Sammy, there are things I want to—”

“It’s fine,” she cuts me off again. “All good in the hood.”

What the—?

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Brooke shouts into the otherwise silent room. “Noah, the baby isn’t yours!”

Time pauses. Brakes squeal to a stop inside my head. And in the distance, I’m pretty sure I can hear sirens. Or explosions. Or, I don’t know, the end of the fucking world.

“The baby isn’t mine?” I question, looking directly at Ashley.“What?”

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