Page 36 of Unforgettable
“Ready?” she asked gently.
Randi looked at the chair, then at the room, then finally at Brew.
Ready had nothing to do with it.
She rose carefully, managing with more determination than grace, and adjusted the strap of her bag over her shoulder. The nurse moved forward to assist, but Randi shook her head lightly.
“I’ve got it.”
She turned to him then, suddenly unsure how to end something that hadn’t been simple from the start. Thank you felt too small. Goodbye felt too final. Every word that came to mind seemed incapable of holding what these past days had become.
Brew solved none of it. He only stood there, watching her with that same quiet intensity that had steadied her from the beginning.
Then, at last, he extended his hand.
A simple gesture. Formal. Appropriate.
It should have felt easy.
It didn’t.
Randi reached out with her left hand and placed it in his.
The contact was immediate.
Jolting.
Unexpected in its intensity.
For a moment, neither of them moved. Neither spoke. Neither let go. Neither wanted too.
Something passed between them—unspoken, undeniable—holding them there longer than either one intended, longer than they should have allowed.
The sound of the nurse shifting the wheelchair broke the spell.
Reality returned all at once. Protocol. Timing. Expectation. Everything that did not allow room for this.
Their grip weakened.
Not all at once.
Slowly. Reluctantly.
As if both understood exactly what they were being asked to release.
Their fingers began to slip apart, lingering until only the lightest contact remained.
Fingertips.
And then—
Nothing.
And neither of them was ready for it.
Randi lowered herself into the wheelchair before she trusted her knees to hold. The nurse adjusted the footrests and offered one last efficient smile.
“We’ll take good care of you downstairs.”
