Page 52 of Your Love

“Good man!” He exclaims. His hand lands on the wooden table with a resounding slap, emphasizing his words. “My parents have always spoken highly of you, claiming that you’re a great guy who truly loves my daughter.” His mood turns somber as he pauses. “I haven’t always been there to protect her, but I believe in our judgment when it comes to you. It’s clear to me how much you care for her, and that means everything to me. Just give her some time and space if she needs it.”

I nod in understanding. “So, I assume once she’s released from the hospital, she will be staying here with you?”

“Yes. Everyone seems to think familiar things should surround her as she recovers from her physical injuries. She’ll spend the summer here with me and her mother. We’ll have to take next year of college one step at a time.”

I knew that was going to be the answer, the logical and right thing to do, but my heart feels like it’s being squeezed in a vice. The thought of not seeing her after I leave causes the panic to begin to riot in my chest. If she can’t remember me, I have no idea where our relationship will end up.

Charlie’s voice breaks through my swirling thoughts. “We better get to the hospital,” he says, his hand on my shoulder.

“Thank you again for meeting with me.”

“Of course, Landry. This will all work out. You have to give it time.”

“I’m a pretty patient guy,” I chuckle weakly as we make our way out of the coffee shop.

With a racing heart and sweaty palms, I step into the elevator and press the button for the third floor. My mind is consumed with fear as I make my way to Kerri’s room. I can’t bear to see that look of terror on her face again, knowing that I am the one who caused it. The memory of my sister disappearing under the ice years ago haunts me, but that image is just as unbearable. As I reach for the doorknob, my hands tremble, and I take a deep breath before entering.

Kerri’s sitting up in bed, her pale complexion from yesterday now flushed with a rosy hue. Her eyes sparkle with renewed energy and clarity. Maybe it’s finally knowing the extent of damage from the accident. At least now we have some idea what’s going on.

Beside her, her mother sits with a comforting hand on her shoulder. Kerri’s eyes hold a glimmer of vitality, a marked improvement from the previous day. She offers me a small smile, though it seems forced and lacking its usual warmth.

As I cautiously move further into the room, I make sure to keep my distance and avoid getting too close to her. My heart longs to rush to her and wrap her in my arms, but I know that would be a catastrophic mistake.

Her gaze rakes over me from head to toe, taking in every detail as if trying to remember. It brings back memories of our first encounter at the Farmers Market.

“Hi,” I say softly, mustering a weak wave. I feel completely lost and unsure of what to do or say.

Kerri’s voice was raspy but still holds a hint of sweetness as she replies, “Howdy.” Her slight smile tugs at my heartstrings, knowing the pain she must be feeling.

“I’m Landry,” I offer, attempting to match her cheery tone.

Her smile grows more genuine at my introduction. “That’s what they tell me,” she says with a soft chuckle.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better than yesterday. I’m not in as much pain. Just a little frustrated that my brain isn’t working right.”

I nod sympathetically. My eyes drift to the stuffed chick toy I had brought for her yesterday, now nestled into her side on the hospital bed. “I’m glad you have Lou with you,” I say, smiling at the sight.

Kerri’s brows furrow in confusion, her blue eyes clouded with uncertainty. “Who?”

“The chicken,” I reply with a smile, pointing to the stuffed animal on her side. “I named her Lou after a baby chick on your grandparents’ farm.”

She glances down at the plush toy, then back up at me. Her expression reveals that she has no recollection of the event, but she responds politely nonetheless.

“It’s adorable,” she says, offering a small smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I say, leaning against the door and waiting to see where the conversation will go next.

Kerri looks at her mom. “Mama, would it be alright if Landry and I had a few moments alone?” Her voice is tentative yet determined.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“I’m sure. Besides, the doctor said it’s best if we talk, so that’s what we should do.”

Her mother looks at her with weary eyes, lines of worry etched on her face. “It’s okay, Mama. I feel comfortable now. I may not remember everything, but I know rationally that I’m safe.”

“I’ll just be right outside if you need me.” As she walks by, she places a gentle hand on my shoulder and gives me a soft smile before continuing out the door.