JENNIE

The last day and a half had been an ordeal for my mom and me, but she'd been much stronger than I had. She didn't leave my side, choosing to sleep on the cramped window bench in my hospital room last night. Now it was time for breakfast, and I'd pretty much thrown her out of the room, urging her to get a decent cup of coffee or a meal she wouldn't have to eat out of a Styrofoam container.

God. I'd spent the summer wanting to be an independent adult, not realizing how nice it was to have my mom around—not until I'd needed her.

The surgery had gone well, or so I'd been told. In recovery, I'd been out of it from the sedation and didn't remember a thing. My mom said Dr. Manoban came by to check on me soon after I'd woken up, but she hadn't said anything else, even when I pressed her on it.

And I hadn't seen her since.

I shifted in the bed against the pillow propping me up. My incisions were in my belly, but my back hurt no matter what position I was in. The hospital was nice, yet everything about the room was uncomfortable, and I turned my gaze toward the window and the sunlight outside. The morning nurse said I'd probably be discharged this afternoon, and I was desperate to be home and in my own bed.

There was a knock on the door, jolting me. I expected it to fly open—none of the busy hospital staff waited for a patient to invite them in. The knock seemed more of a courtesy announcement. But whoever had tapped on my door, they lingered outside, waiting.

"Come in," I called.

The oversized door was pushed open, but the boy remained in the hallway, staring into my room with disbelief.

I couldn't believe who I was seeing either. "Felix?"

He moved hesitantly inside, shutting the door behind him, and then glanced around the room, checking to see if there was anyone else. Satisfied we were alone, he set his focus on me.

What the hell was he doing here?

His expression was full of worry, almost like seeing me in a hospital bed, an IV hanging at my side, had him rattled. I found his presence right now unbearable. My tone was so harsh, it even surprised me. "What do you want?"

Felix jammed his hands in the pockets of his jeans and drew in a deep breath. "Hey. How're you feeling?"

I was tired of sugarcoating things and no longer cared about how the truth was going to make him feel. "I'm feeling like you're the last person I want to see right now."

He nodded. "Yeah, I figured." His face was grim, his posture tense. "Lisa told me what happened. I was worried about you."

So, he was back to calling her Lisa. I hurt for her dada, and it made me angry. I gave my ex-boyfriend a flat look. "You didn't care about me when we were together. It's a little weird to start now."

He had the nerve to look wounded. "Don't say that. Jennie, you know you—"

I lifted a hand, cutting him off, because I had no patience left. "Why are you here?"

He was restless, unable to stay in one place or hold my gaze. He paced a circuit from one end of the room to the other. "What she said, about the girl in the hot tub? I fucked up. I'm sorry, okay?"

I wanted to believe what I was hearing, but my skeptical side didn't trust it. "You came . . . to apologize?"

He stopped pacing. "Yeah."

"Why?"

My simple question derailed him completely, judging by his stunned look. "What?"

"Why?" I repeated. "Why do you feel the need to apologize?"

He looked at me like I was losing my mind. "You don't think I did anything wrong?"

I gave a tight, humorless laugh, but pain flashed through my incisions. "No, I do. What I mean is, coming here and saying this isn't exactly fun for you. You could get away with not doing it. So, why are you?" Like most people, Felix would avoid responsibility if given the opportunity. "No one's making you apologize."

The moment my off-handed statement registered, his gaze drifted to the door, and my stomach flipped over.

"Oh," I said quietly. There were a half-dozen reasons he could have given on why he'd come. He could have said he felt bad. That he hadn't meant to hurt me. But, no. I suspected Felix was here only because his dada was on the other side of the door and had put him up to this.

Which made any apology he gave me empty and worthless.

"I screwed up, and I'm sorry." Felix's voice might have been sincere, but I couldn't tell. He didn't give me much of a chance anyway, because he scowled. "But don't think that makes what you did with my dada okay. Because it's not."

I was so tired, and for once, shouldn't I get to be selfish? This conversation wasn't going to do anything but make me feel worse, so I wasn't going to have it.

"Can you just go?" I turned away from him, blinking away tears I refused to cry.

Silence dragged, but finally he sighed his frustration. "I told her this was stupid."

His footsteps rang out as he marched to the door and yanked it open. I didn't want to look out into the hallway and find Lisa waiting there, but my heart had a different plan. It wasn't about to give up the chance to see her again.

Lisa wore the white doctor's coat. She had on black pants, a white dress shirt, and a black tie with small dots decorating the silk. The sides of her coat were pushed back so she could rest her hands on her hips, and she peered over Felix's head to find me in the bed.

My watery eyes were all she needed to see. She set her jaw and glared at Felix. "No, not good enough. Try again."

Her son went stiff. "I held up my end of the deal. I said I was sorry."

"Looks like you need to tell her again."

"You know," Felix snapped, "you can't actually make someone forgive you."

"Oh, believe me, I'm aware." Lisa's voice was heavy with meaning. "I'm not giving up, and you don't get to either."

Her arms came down to hang at her sides, and her posture straightened. In fact, her whole demeanor shifted. Her determined, focused look locked onto her son.

"Felix." Her voice was full of gravity. "I'm sorry I made the wrong choice when I was young and stupid, and I'm sorry I was a selfish, shitty parent to you. I can't change what I did, but I wish I could." She softened, everything from her stance to her tone. "You want to be selfish and shitty to me? I get it. I haven't earned your forgiveness, so all I can do is keep trying."

Felix took a step backward and looked off-kilter. He wasn't expecting his dada to make such an overture—in front of me, no less—and wasn't sure how to defend himself against it. He stared at his dada with pure disbelief.

Lisa's voice firmed up. "You haven't earned her forgiveness either. What about that?" She said it as a challenge. "I think the least you could do is not give up."

Felix looked at his dada like she was a ghost, and the words came from him in a blur. "I'm not dealing with this right now."

He puffed up his chest and strode from the room, not caring who was standing in the way as he went. The side of his shoulder clipped his dada, forcing Lisa out of the doorway.

Disappointment clung to her expression as she watched her son go.

Was Felix ever going to accept his dada's apology? Or had I screwed that up, driving a permanent wedge between the Manoban?

I felt a hundred emotions at once. Part of me was shamefully excited to see Lisa again, but the crushing longing for her was there too, reminding me I didn't have her anymore.

"I'm sorry about him," she said. Her shoulders rose as she drew in a breath. "And I'm sorry about a lot of things. That I couldn't choose us. That I made you end things. I was weak, and couldn't bring myself to do it."

There hadn't been any fight in her when we'd broken up, I'd thought.

But . . . had I been wrong?

She'd gotten Felix to come to the hospital and attempt to apologize, so maybe she was fighting for us, just in a different way. Did she have a plan? She was smart and calculating, and right now I could practically see the wheels turning in her head.

I stared at her in the doorway, beautifully backlit by the bright hallway, and ached for her to come inside the room. I was desperate for her to storm over to my bedside, scoop me up in her arms, and set her mouth on mine, like she couldn't tolerate another moment without kissing me.

But Lisa and I both knew wishing for things didn't make them happen.

Her words were hushed, only for me. "I miss you."

The pain I felt wasn't where her scalpel had cut me open. It was buried deeper inside. "I miss you too."

She took one hesitant step across the threshold of my room. "I'm working on it. On him."

I swallowed a breath. She'd said she wasn't giving up, and the way she looked at me now, I knew she meant on everything. This woman was driven, and she wasn't going to quit when facing an obstacle.

My pulse leaped with hope.

When her phone chimed, disappointment created a deep crease in Lisa's forehead. She glanced at the screen, then back to me. "It's the second time they've paged me."

I nodded and pulled the blanket tighter around my waist, mustering the bravest face I could, hoping she'd understand my meaning. "Okay. Go do what you need to."

Polly, our one-eyed cat, didn't care for Tripod. In fact, she was old and ornery, and didn't like anyone except my mom and me. It was late afternoon as my mom helped me into my bed, and both the dog and cat paced my room like two boxers preparing to go at each other.

But they weren't interested in fighting, only in staking their spot beside me. As soon as I was settled, propped up on some pillows, Polly leapt up on the bed. She curled into a tight ball beside my hip. Her ears went back when the dog also jumped on board. He wasn't small or graceful, and I grimaced as the bed rocked.

"Tripod, no!" My mom clapped her hands to try to shoo the dog off, but Tripod flattened himself against me, his head in my lap. He gave my mom the deepest puppy dog eyes he possessed, and she sighed. He was stubborn and spoiled, and when it came to my mom, he always got his way.

"He's fine," I said.

I would have laughed, but my incisions were tender. I'd discovered coughing, sneezing, and laughter were things to avoid right now. I put my hand on his head, and his tail thumped hard against the mattress. Polly's ears went back again, perturbed, but she didn't abandon her spot.

"You need anything else?" my mom asked.

"No." I lifted the TV remote in one hand and my phone in the other. "I'm all set." I gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you. I feel like we were there forever. I hope your garden's okay." She hadn't even mentioned it while we were cooped up in the hospital.

She laughed and waved a hand, brushing off my comment. "They're plants. I'm sure they're fine."

"But thanks for staying with me."

She gave me a weird smile, like I was being silly. "That's what mothers do." She faked seriousness. "But, honey, do that to me again and you'll be in big trouble."

"Yes, ma'am. I promise, no more appendicitis for me."

Her gaze dropped to my wrist. "Want me to cut the bracelets off?"

"Oh." I eyed the plastic hospital ID bracelets clasped to my right wrist. My name, date of birth, and Dr. Manoban were printed on it. A small part of me didn't want to take it off yet, but then I thought I was being ridiculous. "Yes, please."

She left and returned with a pair of scissors, and I held still while she cut the bands off.

"I'm in love with Dr. Manoban," I said abruptly.

My mom paused, arched one eyebrow, and set the bands on my nightstand. "Oh, Jennie, I know. I figured that out watching you two in recovery."

Oh no.

I sank back against my pillows as dread filled my chest. Had I told her I loved her, again, this time while she was in the room? And had she stayed silent a second time? "What did I do?"

"You looked at her."

I blinked. "That's it?"

"You looked at her the same way I used to look at your father." Her expression was flat. "Person like her are a lot of heartache."

I pulled my face into a scowl. "She's not like my father."

Once again, I got the look like I was being silly. Or maybe naïve. "She's certainly old enough to be, isn't she? Plus, a woman who walks out on her son only cares about herself."

"She was young and made a mistake, but I can tell you, Felix's the most important person in her life now."

Her expression was pure skepticism. "I find that hard to believe."

"She'd do anything for her son, and that included giving me up."

She sighed, then ran a hand over Tripod's back, making the dog's tail thump noisily on the bed. "I don't know how to feel about that woman anymore. She broke my baby girl's heart, but also saved her life." When she stopped petting him, Tripod nuzzled her hand on the bed, and she resumed. "She looked at you the same way, you know. She came right into that recovery room, took your hand, and held it the entire time she told me how the surgery went."

I took in a breath, and as my lungs expanded, there was the dull pain reminding me not to do that. I tried to picture the moment. Lisa standing over my hospital bed, one of my hands clasped in hers. It made my heart ache.

"Well, I know you're hurting," my mom said, rising cautiously from the bed. I had no idea if she was talking about my physical or emotional pain. "Get some sleep. I know we both need it."

It was both comforting and uncomfortable with Tripod sleeping beside me like a furry, immovable log. Whenever I tried to get him to adjust, he just groaned and snuggled in.

I'd gotten a few hours of sleep, but now my pain medicine was wearing thin, and I sent a text to my mom.

Jennie: Can you bring me something to drink? I'm ready for some more drugs.

Mom: Good, you're awake. Are you up for visitors?

It had to be Lilith. My mom texted her when I went in for surgery, and my best friend had wanted to come by the hospital. I'd foolishly thought I'd get to go home last night and had told her not to worry about it.

Jennie: Yeah, send her up.

Footsteps creaked on the stairs, causing both Polly and Tripod to lift their heads toward the sound. My door pushed open without a knock, and in strolled a boy, a can of Dr. Pepper in his hand.

God, again?