Home > Still Beating(54)

Still Beating(54)
Author: Jennifer Hartmann

Tears streak my cheeks, moistening my parched lips as I inhale a choppy breath. “How long have I been here?” Panic sets in, and I wonder how much time has slipped away. Is it a new year? A new decade?

“You’ve been unconscious for four days,” he responds.

I soak up the fact that it hasn’t been longer, but then my eyes widen with dread. “M-My dogs. Jude and Penny. Are they okay?”

My mother quickly nods. “They’re just fine. Lily has been house-sitting for you.”

Thank God.

I’m nodding my relief when Mandy walks in with a cup of coffee. She does a double take when she notices I’m awake. “Oh, my God…”

I turn my head to the opposite side, unable to look at her.

My father clears his throat. “Bridge, let’s give them a few minutes.”

I’m still looking out the window at the dreary winter day, listening to my parents shuffle out of the room. It’s a fitting backdrop to my new nightmare. I feel the bed shift as my sister takes a seat to my left.

Mandy leans down to hug me, her cheek pressed to my covered chest. “I never wanted you to hurt yourself,” she murmurs against me.

I close my eyes, swallowing down a fresh set of tears. I never used to cry much, but now I feel like it’s all I do. “You said you never wanted to see me again, and I don’t blame you.”

“That doesn’t mean I wanted you dead,” she insists, straightening with a sniffle. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“We can just add it to the growing list of fucked up things I do now.”

Mandy’s sigh reverberates through me. She hesitates before saying, “Dean was here that first night. He was a mess.”

My heart picks up speed, involuntarily.

“The doctors said he found you just in time. A few minutes longer and you’d be dead.”

Dean saved my life.

Again.

I wipe at my wet cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Mandy. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

A few silent beats pass by, and I’m afraid to look at her. I’m afraid to see her wounded, scornful eyes.

The bed moves as Mandy rises to her feet, and I finally spare a small glance in her direction. She tucks her tangled hair behind her ear, twirling her coffee cup between tense fingers. “I love you, Cora, and I’m glad you’re okay, but… this doesn’t wipe the slate clean. I’m still processing everything. It’s… a lot.” She squeezes the cup, her eyes closing. “A lot of damage was done, and I’m not sure when I’ll ever be able to forgive you.”

I nod, tears falling free and dampening my shoulders. “I understand,” I squeak out.

Mandy opens her eyes and pins them on me, her expression sober. “But seriously, Cor, don’t you ever pull that shit again. Get help. Find a new therapist if you need to. Join a support group. Get on medication. Just… don’t ever feel like we’d be better off without you.”

I nod again.

Mandy ducks her head. “I’m trying to understand, trying to put myself in your shoes, trying to sympathize with everything you went through that could have led to…” Her jaw tightens and she swallows. “But I’m still mad. I’m so mad at you, Cora.”

“I know,” I sniff. “You have every right to be furious with me. I’ll never be able to explain what happened because I don’t even understand it.”

Mandy nibbles her lip, glancing my way, then dips her chin. “I’m sorry I hit you. I had no right to put my hands on you.”

“I deserved it.”

“No,” she says. Then she sighs, dropping one arm to her side and taking a slow sip of her coffee. “Anyway, I’ll let you rest. I’m glad you’re okay—don’t ever think otherwise.”

A watery smile breaks through. “Thanks, sis.”

She doesn’t return the smile, but her eyes aren’t flaring with hate, giving me hope that maybe there is hope for us someday. Maybe we can fix this.

Mandy takes a few steps backwards and turns to leave the room—but her feet falter. She looks back at me over her shoulder, her eyes glossing over, glowing with fresh pain. “I’m not sure if this makes it better or worse, but… I think he really loves you.”

Mandy walks out, a small cry escaping her lips, and I start sobbing into the itchy bed covers.

 

 

I have no idea where I am for a moment when the mattress sinks with a new weight and an arm slinks around my midsection. I have one foot in a dream and the other in reality as I breathe in the familiar scent of cedar and leather. My body recognizes him, and I instinctively snuggle in closer to the warm body on my left, still not sure if he’s real or not.

“My sweet Corabelle.”

His breath against my ear makes me shiver. I blink myself awake as the room comes into focus, and my head tilts to the side, finding his eyes.

He’s real.

“Dean.” His name tumbles out like a broken whisper, our gaze locking, our emotions rising. God… to think I would have never seen these eyes again if he hadn’t found me. “I’m sorry.”

Dean touches his fingertips to my temple, then glides a loose strand of hair behind my ear. He looks tired and distraught—but there’s a distinct glimmer of relief swimming in his baby blues. His hand settles against my neck, his thumb skimming my jaw. “I thought I lost you.”

His words are familiar and they cause my brows to pull together. I force a smile. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“Promise?”

My breath catches as déjà vu tickles me from head to toe. I think this is the part where I’m supposed to lean in for a kiss, but I press my lips together in resistance and nod instead.

“You scared the hell out of me, Cora. I had no idea you felt like that—which fucks me up even more because the signs were all there. I feel like I failed you.” Dean tightens his hold on my neck, desperation lacing his words as he swallows back his grief. “If you need space, I’ll give you space. If you need time, I’ll give you time. If you never want to see me again, I’ll pack my bags and move to fuckin’ Mexico, all right? But don’t you ever try to take away the one thing you fought so goddamn hard to keep.”

Dean places his hand against the swell of my breast encased in a hospital gown, closing his eyes as he revels in the feel of my heartbeat against his palm. I touch my hand to his, tears welling in my eyes. So many tears. I roll onto my side, trying not to tangle myself in cords, and press our foreheads together. “Mandy found out about us. She saw your text. She… she was so mad, so furious, and I flipped out, Dean. I was out of my head.” I inhale a rickety breath. “It was the lowest moment of my life. I thought I’d lost everything.”

He exhales slow and deliberate, pressing his hand further into my chest. “You only lose everything when you lose this, Corabelle.”

I nod, and it takes all of my willpower not to lean up and capture a kiss.

We lie like that for a while, pressed together, face to face, his lips trailing tiny kisses along my hairline, my eyes, my nose, my chin. He avoids my mouth, and eventually we hold each other in silence, just staring and thinking. I ask him at one point, “How did you get in here?”

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