“I intend to love this woman for the rest of my life. She can try to push me away like she’s been doing, but sooner or later, I’ll wear her down, and she’ll realize I’m not going anywhere.”
Chapter Twenty-One
* * *
“JESS. WAKE UP, baby.” Dylan stood over her waiting for any sign she heard him. He needed her to wake up and look at him. He needed her to be okay.
Greg met him at Jessie’s hospital room for lunch together for the last three days. He’d only gone home for a few hours each evening to have dinner with his son and put him to bed. He felt guilty twice over, for leaving Jessie for those few hours and being away from his son.
The doctor told them due to the concussion, she’d wake up when she was ready. The MRI scan showed the brain injury healing well. Every hour Jessie didn’t wake up made Dylan worry that much more. They’d expected her to wake up days ago, but she went through groggy spells, never truly waking up, and slept for hours on end.
Greg stood from his seat and went to the other side of the bed. They watched and waited as she slowly started coming around over the better part of an hour. She’d moved and twitched. This was the first sign she might actually hear them talking to her. Once, she’d murmured something incoherently. Dylan hoped this time she’d wake up for real. The doctor said to give her time. He didn’t want to give her another minute. He wanted to see her open her eyes, say something, anything, move so he knew she’d be okay.
Jessie heard voices over the throbbing pulse in her brain. She tried to lift her hand to her eyes to press them back into her skull. Someone held her hand down, and the pain, shooting through her arm and shoulder when she tried to move, made her moan. In her mind, she screamed.
“Jess? Honey, are you awake?” a voice crooned.
Honey? Funny, it sounded like Dylan. That couldn’t be right. Maybe he changed his mind and came to see the baby.
Jessie’s head pounded fiercely, making her think it might split clear open. She had a fleeting thought she must have gotten really drunk, and she’d have to kick her own ass. She wished she could remember what happened, but her mind was a blank screen, images flickering on and off like someone playing with a light switch.
“J.T. Come back to us. Wake up,” Greg coaxed in a soft voice, his fingers rubbing her arm.
Greg’s here. His voice came through the fog. It must be time to see Hope. Jessie wanted to see her baby. Hope needed her.
She tried to open her eyes, but the light and the pounding in her head hurt too much. Someone held her hand. Greg. She didn’t know why her head hurt so much. Something she should know nagged at the edge of her mind and tried to crowd in. She kept holding it back because somehow she knew if she let it in, it would crush her.
She fluttered her eyes and squinted from the too-bright room. Someone turned the light off above her. The pain behind her eyes eased.
The impossible sound of Dylan’s voice came again. “Jess.”
“Dylan,” she whispered, confused and so hopeful and happy he was here. “Did you come to see her? You changed your mind?”
She wanted to see his face. She’d missed him so much, and she’d been alone for so long without him. He’d finally decided to come. She’d hoped, prayed he’d change his mind. That he would want her and Hope. Groggy, she tried to focus. The doctor must have given her something to sleep because she’d been up all night with Hope in the NICU.
Everywhere hurt and something about that didn’t seem right.
“Jess, honey, wake up for me.” Anxiety and worry filled his voice. “Open your eyes and look at me.”
She opened her eyes and gave him a half smile, worried how he’d react about the baby and if he’d stay or leave her again. She hoped he wanted to see his daughter and be a part of her life.
“Did you see her already? We can go see her together. She’s so beautiful.”
He glanced over her, and she followed his line of vision to Greg. She tried to smile, but it never quite tilted her lips. “We need to go see her. Will you take me?”
Greg winced. “J.T. You’ve been in an accident. You were hit by a car. Do you remember?” Greg asked, touching her cheek with his fingertips. At her blank stare, Greg finished. “I hate to break your heart again, but Hope isn’t here.”
She shifted her gaze from Greg to Dylan. Older now, he still had that strong hard jaw, the muscles in it working. Creases lined his brow and dark circles marred his eyes. He needed to shave and his hair was raked back in messy disarray. “This isn’t right.”
Greg’s words sank in. She’d been in a car accident. No. She’d been hit by a car. The visions flashed in her mind. She’d scooped up a little boy. She remembered the thump of the car hitting her legs and back, the crack of her head hitting the windshield, and they’d flown through the air.