"I'm sorry, Mrs. Somers," I said, not knowing how else to reply to her scathing words. I was heartbroken by the revelation that Sean had quit his job. "Is he going to be okay? My mother told me there's a chance that he won't walk again."

She shook her head, the fierceness leaving her eyes as they dulled with pain. "The doctors aren't sure. There are significant spinal injuries and it's too soon to tell." Her eyes were intense again as she glared at me. "Don't say anything to Sean about his legs. He doesn't know that he might not be able to walk again. He just thinks that the numbness is temporary, and that he'll be able to feel his legs again. It's too much for him right now to know that he might be stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of his life."

I nodded, even though I didn't agree with keeping it from Sean, but I was in no position to judge.

I went home and spent most of the afternoon sitting in front of the TV although I barely paid attention to it. My mother was keeping her distance, seemingly unable to deal with all the emotional turmoil. Ever since my father died, she had done everything she could to avoid messy emotions.

I had to wait for Jackson to call me since he was flying into L.A. today. We had only spoken briefly the night before because I had been exhausted from the flight and the stress of everything that had happened. I eagerly answered the phone when it rang and I saw his name flash across the screen.

"Emma! How are you doing?" There was so much concern in Jackson's voice. I desperately wished I was with him right now.

"I'm okay. I went to visit Sean today. He's in pretty bad shape."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Do you know when you're coming out here?"

"I'm not sure, Jackson. It's going to be a couple of days. I just want to make sure Sean's okay before I leave. Emotionally, at least. The last thing I want is for him to try something like this again."

Jackson sighed, but didn't say anything. I tried to change the subject.

"How was your flight? Are you excited about tomorrow?"

"I just landed and I'm on my way to the apartment."

"I'm so disappointed I won't get to see it with you," I replied glumly. We had only seen online pictures of our rental apartment and it depressed me that I wouldn't be there with Jackson to see it for the first time.

"Just stay on the phone with me, sweetheart. We can still be together when I go into the apartment, even if you're on the phone."

I agreed eagerly and I laughed for the first time today when he took pictures from his phone and sent them to me, sticking his head into some of them. He moved from room to room, making comments about what he saw. We were both loathe to hang up, so we ended up spending hours on the phone. I listened to him order a sandwich when he ran out to a nearby deli and he waited while I heated up some leftover chili my mom had made. We ate together, talking about all the different things we were going to do when I first got to L.A. We even watched TV together, although we couldn't match up the shows because of the time difference. Instead, we took turns describing what we were watching.

After six hours, we were both exhausted and agreed that it was time to hang up.

"I'll call you tomorrow, sweetheart. Try to get some sleep. I love you."

"I love you too, Jackson."

I lay in bed for a while before I was able to fall asleep, feeling a sense of emptiness because Jackson wasn't next to me.

The next few days fell into a pattern. I would visit Sean in the hospital and then mope around the house until Jackson called. The calls came later and later as Jackson became busier, the time difference not helping. I knew he was growing more and more agitated when I kept pushing off my departure date. Sean's last words at the end of every visit was a plea for me to come back the next day, and I found it hard to say no to him.

Jackson reached his breaking point on Thursday.

"What's going on, Emma? You've been there for five days. How much more time do you need?" His voice was straining with impatience. I knew I was being unfair by dragging this out, but I didn't have the heart to refuse Sean's daily request to visit him again.

"Tomorrow," I said after a deep breath. "Tomorrow will be the last day I visit Sean. I'll look into flights leaving Saturday for L.A."

"Thank God," Jackson said, sounding relieved. "I know you're trying to help Sean, but you're not obligated anymore. He has to get used to you not being in his life." His voice lowered, sounding hoarse. "I need you with me, Emma."

"I need to be with you too. I'll let you know about my flight tomorrow."

I woke up to a beautiful Friday morning, the sun shining through the window of my old bedroom that my mother had kept exactly the same. It had been hard to look at the pictures still tacked up on the bulletin board above my desk. There were so many of Sean and me, as well as Trisha. It reminded me that there had been plenty of happy moments in my past. I seemed to have forgotten that in the rush to escape my old life.

When I got to the hospital, Mrs. Somers met me in the hallway outside Sean's room. She was still distrustful, but she had been tolerating my presence since Sean was so insistent that I visit him every day. She looked shaken when she stopped me from going into his room.

"He knows about his legs. Some stupid nurse let it slip and he's going crazy."

I grimaced, even though I thought it was a mistake to keep the condition of his legs from Sean. That didn't mean I wanted to witness what the realization would do to him.

"Be careful," Mrs. Somers warned. "He's not himself."

I pushed the door open slowly and Sean whipped his head towards me. He laughed harshly when he saw the cautious look on my face.

"Here to visit the cripple?" Sean's voice was snide, a tone I had never heard from him before, even when I had called off our wedding. He waved towards his legs, looking at them distastefully. "I'm sure you know that these things are useless. Everyone seems to know except me."

"Sean," I said softly, approaching him slowly. He was like a wild animal that I didn't want to startle. "We didn't tell you because we wanted to protect you. And there's a chance that you can walk again."

Sean's mouth twisted in a sneer. "You wanted to protect me? That's funny. You were the one to rip my fucking heart out."

I breathed deeply, willing myself not to cry. The last thing Sean needed was for me to start blubbering. "I deserve that. But it's true. Your mother is so worried about you."

"Where's my fucking father?"

I didn't know how to answer that. Mrs. Somers had contacted Sean's father with the news, but he had simply said to keep him updated on Sean's condition. Apparently, he was too busy with his new wife and kids to give a damn.




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