It's not simple to say

That most days I don't recognize me

~She Used To Be Mine, Sara Bareilles

Stephanie's POV

Ever since I had Stella, I've craved the ability to stay in bed longer. It doesn't feel like I haven't had a restful night of sleep since she was born. If she wasn't awake for feedings or diaper changes, it was teething or a tummy ache. Then potty training, or those two weeks where I stupidly thought she could sleep in underwear and she peed the bed every night. Then it was scary things in the closet or under the bed or a noise outside. Or on the nights where she actually slept all night long, I woke up because I was worried something must be wrong.

I've been almost exclusively confined to my bed for the last six weeks and I can confidently say I now hate being in bed. Well, I'd confidently say it if I could fucking talk. I'm slowly getting better, but it was frustrating the hell out of me. I was able to say more words every day, but getting my brain to tell my mouth what to do is still a lot of work and only about twenty percent successful at this point. The speech therapist tells me not to worry, that I'm making good progress, but has she ever been through this? I have my iPad so I can use an app on there to say things that I can't seem to get my mouth to do, but it's still ridiculous. I can type, but sometimes I misspell things, which really hits my ego because I've always been a good speller.

I was moved out of the hospital and into a rehabilitation center across the street three days ago. I knew of it because of having worked in the hospital. It was supposed to be the best place in the area for anyone recovering from a brain injury. I had never imagined being a patient here. I have a new speech therapist, a new physical therapist, a new occupational therapist, and new nurses. I had been told I would have a room to myself, but when the transfer day arrived I was told that due to some water damage that had closed off three of the rooms I would have to share a room for a few days with a woman who was due to transfer out of the facility.

Her name was Joanne. I had placed her in her mid-fifties with blonde hair and brown eyes. She hadn't seem to notice when I moved in, despite my wave to her as I was wheeled into the room. Her husband was there every day to see her. His name was Tom. According to Tom, Joanne had been water-skiing on Lake Michigan over the Labor Day weekend when something had gone wrong and she flipped on her skis, hitting her head on a jet ski that had been going by in the opposite direction. She had not only hit her head, but had drowned and been resuscitated. The combination of lack of oxygen and the head injury had left her unable to do much of anything. She had been transferred to rehabilitation in the hopes that she would regain some skills, but after nearly four months in rehab, she wasn't much better off than she had been. The doctors believed there wasn't much more to be done, so she was going to move to a nursing facility closer to her home in Marion. She didn't seem to care. I had only been here for three days, but it had already been clear to me that Joanne had given up on life. The nurses and her husband often wondered if she was aware of her surroundings because she generally didn't respond to them when they tried talking to her. But when they were gone, I would hear her crying. I had noticed her watching the television when it was on. And when Ranger had brought Stella in to see me yesterday, I had noticed her watching us. Granted, she would have had to be brain-dead to have not been watching us after the way that visit had gone.

Seeing Ranger carry Stella into my room had caused so many conflicting emotions to erupt in my chest that I knew I wasn't going to be able to tolerate a long visit. I had tried to tell him I wasn't ready to see her yet. I missed her, but I was afraid that not being able to talk much would scare her. Not to mention that my emotions were out of control. It was like being pregnant again, except there was a lot of anger to go along with the weeping. Stella had been so happy to see me, and I had sobbed when she threw herself into my arms. The realization that I could have been killed and never seen her again hadn't hit me so hard until that moment. Once I had calmed down, she started asking me every question under the sun. I would nod or shake my head and say words that managed to escape my mouth, but more often than not I couldn't form an answer, which frustrated Stella. Ranger had pulled a chair over the side of my bed and frequently reminded Stella that I was still getting better and that included being able to talk again. But that wasn't a satisfying answer for a three year-old who had been used to me talking to her from the moment she had formed ears.

Ranger would tell Stella to talk me about things in her life and I would listen as she rambled on about her daddy, the cat, daddy, Katie, and the new preschool that she would start going to on Monday. Oh, and daddy. At her request, Ranger had given her the little backpack we took everywhere with us. It held toys, snacks, and extra clothes in case of accidents. She pulled out the toys she had packed and was telling me about the new ones she had gotten for Christmas. I did my best to focus on what she was saying, but all of the emotions and thoughts I had in my head were distracting. I was sad that I had missed Christmas with her. I was jealous of how much she seemed to love Ranger and how easily he seemed to have slipped into the role of single parent after less than two months. Where the hell had this guy been four years ago?

"When are you coming home, Mommy?"

Stella's question pushed me over the edge and I started crying again. I had no idea when I was coming home and I couldn't make my goddamned mouth work in the right way to tell her. Once she saw me crying, Stella began to cry. Ranger immediately picked her up and comforted her.

"Mommy's just tired. It's a lot hard work to get better again," he'd said to her as she cried into his shoulder.

Watching him comfort her and be everything I'd ever wanted him to be for her set off a rage inside me like I'd never felt. Strength that eluded me whenever I really needed it came surging out of me. I pushed over the hospital tray table with such force it crashed to the ground. I started screaming and hitting the rails on my bed with my good arm. My left arm was trying, but it didn't want to work as well. Which only pissed me off even more.

I hated everything and everyone in that moment. I hated Ranger. I hated him for finally being what I wanted him to be, at least when it came to Stella. I hated the man who had crashed into me while having heart attack instead of pulling over and calling 911. I hated the doctors who had saved my life. I hated the nurses and the therapists who were always telling me how great I was doing and that I would be able to go home as soon as I was strong enough. I hated my mother, not only for essentially disowning me after my engagement to Morelli ended, but for divorcing my father and for being happy with someone else and for showing up in my hospital room after my accident. I hated Katie for calling Ranger, for being my nurse when I showed up in the emergency room four years ago, for convincing me to take the job at the hospital and to stay in Fort Wayne. I hated myself for the decisions I had made over the last few years. I wished I were dead.

It felt as though I'd almost left my body, having no control over what was happening to me while simultaneously knowing that was I terrifying my child. Even Ranger looked a little afraid as he got up out of the chair and backed away. Nurses had come running into the room to calm me down. I saw one nurse say something to Ranger, who was holding a now-screaming Stella with one arm and her backpack with the other. He nodded to the nurse, looked back at me, and left. Now I had scared away the one person in the world who loved me unconditionally- Stella would never want to visit me again. I managed to stop screaming after what felt like forever, but couldn't stop crying. The nurses had attempted to console me and eventually one showed up with a pill and a cup of water. I managed to take the pill, which I knew was a sedative, and cried until I passed out.

It had been dark by the time I woke up again, which in January could be any time between five in the evening to seven in the morning. My throat was sore from the screaming and crying and I felt like I'd run a marathon. I saw Katie sitting in the chair Ranger had vacated earlier reading a book. She was wearing black skinny-legged trousers, a white button-down shirt, black high heels, and her hair was pulled back in a bun. She jokingly called it the sexy librarian look and wore it on days she was going to interact with some of the especially hot doctors at one of the hospitals. She looked up when she saw me move and closed the book she was reading.

"How are you feeling? I heard about the visit."

I closed my eyes and shook my head. I didn't even need words for her to know how I was feeling. Katie understood.

She had been like the sister I wished Valerie had been. She understood me, she called me out on my shit, but also made it clear she had my back no matter what. She had let me move in with her when I had no place to live, had helped me find a job, had held my hand and cracked jokes while I'd been in labor and given birth to Stella. She had taken turns getting up with Stella in the night during those times when I was so exhausted I could barely function. I felt guilty for being so angry at her earlier, even though I hadn't told anyone what I'd been feeling.

"Stella's fine," she told me, knowing that would be my biggest worry. "Carlos got her calmed down and told her that you are just very tired from working hard to get better and that you're sad you can't be home with her, but that you'll feel better the next time."

Why was he so good at this? I had been with Stella everyday of her life and didn't feel like I was very good at the parenting thing. He had been with her practically no time and was being amazing. Katie had told me how well he was doing with her. She had been surprised based on the way I had described him. She told me he had immediately set out to restructure his work life so that he can do everything from here. He was also looking into hiring a nanny to help out when he needed to work or for times when he needed to go to one of the Rangeman offices. She figured he wouldn't know a little girl from a squirrel in the yard, let alone what to do with one. But he had stepped up and was doing everything from meals to bath to bed time and playing. He was being exactly what Stella needed him to be. So why did I resent him for it?

Katie retrieved my iPad and we communicated as best we could about things. She told me about a date she had and I wrote about the drill sergeant who masqueraded as a physical therapist. We turned on the television in time for the newest episode of Blue Bloods. We didn't really like the show, but we both held onto long-lived crushes on Donnie Wahlberg from his New Kids on the Block days. Once the show was over, she told me to not be too hard on myself and to get some sleep.

Ranger showed up after I had spent the morning working with the speech therapist. He was alone, which initially made me worried about who had Stella before I remembered it was Saturday and that she would be with Katie.

"How are you today?" he asked.

"B-better," I managed to say. "I'm s-s-sorry."

Ranger shook his head and squeezed my hand. "Don't worry about it. I shouldn't have pushed a visit yet. You kept trying to tell me you weren't ready."

I shook my head and reached for my iPad. After what felt like three lifetimes of typos and backspacing and searching my brains for the words I wanted to use I managed to type out a coherent message.

Not your fault. Hard to keep feelings under control. Doctor says will get better.

There was so much that needed to be discussed with Ranger. What had gone down between us at the end of our relationship. Everything that had happened since then. My choices when it came to Stella. Our feelings for each other. I didn't like to think about it, but I still loved him. I didn't want to, but I didn't seem to be able to stop. I knew he couldn't be what I wanted him to be and that it would never work between us. That made being around him so much more painful. But I appreciated everything he had done. The minute Katie had called him he had driven out to Indiana to look out for Stella. He had turned his entire life upside-down without hesitation. His mother had driven out with him on Thanksgiving Day and both parents had been out at Christmas. His mother had even offered to retire in order to help out with Stella. I liked his parents, and—prior to me leaving their son and keeping their granddaughter's existence from them until she was three—they had liked me. I hadn't seen them at Christmas, so I wasn't sure if they still liked me. I couldn't blame them if they didn't.

"I've started looking into nannies," Ranger told me. "But whoever I hire is someone who may need to help you out once you're back home, at least for a while. Not just with taking care of Stella, but cooking, cleaning, whatever you need. Are there any certain qualities or skills you want me to look for?"

I thought about it for a minute and focused on making the words come out of my mouth. "Sexy p-p-ooo-l guy."

That made Ranger grin. "You don't have a pool. And do you really want a sexy pool guy taking care of our daughter? He'd probably be too busy oiling his chest and looking at himself in the mirror and then she would run off to steal cars and get in a gang fight. It's her in DNA- from both of us."

That was certainly the truth.

Managing to say sexy pool guy was the most words I had put together at once since the accident and the effort had been tiring. I typed out my real response on the iPad.

Woman. Has raised kids. Knows what to do. Good cook. Not boring. Not afraid of crazy lady.

"That's it?" Ranger asked. "I was thinking more along the lines of CPR-certified, flexible hours, willing to be on-call, able to keep her for a few days at a time if needed. Preferably knows how to use a gun."

I rolled my eyes and typed out a reply. That stuff too.

Ranger wasn't one for small talk and since I couldn't do a lot of talking and typing out messages took forever we sat in silence until my lunch arrived. The nurse laid out my tray so that I could have easy access to everything. A turkey sandwich, macaroni salad, fruit cocktail, green beans, and tea. I had utensils to use that had a thick black handle and a strap that helped me keep ahold on them. I was getting better at the coordination part and keeping my grip firm. The occupational therapist told me that he wanted me to not need the strap on my hand by next week. I worked slowly at feeding myself the sandwich, feeling self-conscious that Ranger was watching me. I had looked pathetic to him countless times over the years, but knew this had to be worst. I didn't want him to pity me. I didn't want him to see me this way. When I had made my decision to call him after the holidays, I had wanted him to come out to Indiana to see a strong, confident single mother with a great job and her shit together. I had wanted him to see that I was just fine without him, especially since he hadn't bothered to look for me.

That was the most painful part of it all. He hadn't had the first clue about where I was, what I was doing, or the fact that we had a child together. Because he hadn't cared to look for me. Yes, I had told him to stay away, but when had he ever listened? Ranger did what he wanted, and what he hadn't wanted over the last four years was to figure out what happened to me. If it hadn't been for Stella, I doubt he would have come out when Katie called. He would have passed along my parents' contact information and left it at that. Who cares about the bitch who left him, who told him she hated him as she walked out the door? Let her solve her own problems.

It took me half an hour to eat my lunch. When I finished, I leaned back and closed my eyes. Why was everything so fucking exhausting?

"I'll let you get some rest," Ranger said, standing up. He had watched me eat my entire meal in silence. It was really too bad the accident hadn't given me ESP. I'd kill to know what he was thinking. Or maybe I didn't want to know. Maybe the things he thought about me were ever worse than what I thought about myself. "Do you need anything?"

I shook my head and waved goodbye as he walked out the door. He looked no different than when I'd left him four years ago. He didn't look any older. He hadn't gained or lost weight. He hadn't changed his hair style or grown a beard or started wearing different clothes. His life had probably not changed much at all when I'd left, except that there wasn't someone in his bed every night when he felt like sex. He hadn't mentioned a girlfriend and Katie hadn't seem to think he was involved with anyone. He had likely learned his lesson with me and vowed to never make that mistake again.

I heaved a sigh as I closed my eyes again. I needed to get better so he could go back home. Not that he would be out of my life entirely, but at least I wouldn't have to see him every day.