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Chapter Sixteen
Nicky lay nestled in the center of her bed, the soft cotton sheets blanketing her body—a feeble protection against the harsh reality of her injuries. Three days post-hospital, she was acclimating to her new normal, one defined by a haze of painkillers that pulsed through her system, dulling her senses and morphing the world outside her bedroom into a swirling mist of colors and disjointed sounds.
The ache of her broken ribs felt like an angry band tightening around her torso, while her left arm throbbed, each heartbeat reminding her of the accident and its aftermath. And the cut along her thigh? It was a vivid reminder that she had come dangerously close to losing everything that mattered.
In these quiet, contemplative moments, Nicky found solace in the small things: the way sunlight streamed through her window, casting soft patterns across her wall; the smell of the lavender-scented candles Leah had lit, filling the room with a sweet and calming aroma; and the gentle rhythm of footsteps outside her door, a steady reminder that she was not alone.
Three days had passed since the accident, and while the physical pain was excruciating, the emotional ache felt worse. The day Nicky had been released from the hospital had barely registered amid the fog of painkillers that dulled her senses.
Her body lay cocooned in a nest of pillows, in her bedroom, her broken arm resting along her stomach. Every shallow breath caused her ribs to throb, sharp spikes of pain slicing through the haze. The cut on her thigh was another story—an immense anger at her body for being vulnerable. Despite the swirling chaos in her mind, she clung to the comfort of familiarity.
Paul had been her rock, a steadfast presence who helped her navigate this unexpected vulnerability. He brought her meals, making sure she stayed nourished, and assisted her each time she needed to shuffle to the bathroom, gingerly leaning on him, tightly holding the crutches that felt awkward beneath her. His humor offered brief moments of respite, somehow lightening the heavy atmosphere, yet something shadowed his gaze whenever she brought up Embry.
"Paul," Nicky said one afternoon, her voice barely above a whisper as her mind swirled with thoughts of him.
"Where's Embry? I haven't seen him since the night of the... accident."
At the mention of Embry, Paul's demeanor shifted dramatically. His jaw clenched, and a storm brewed in his eyes that she hadn't seen before. The vibrant laughter outside faded, replaced with an oppressive silence.
"Embry…" he began slowly, jaw clenched as he spoke, his voice barely contained the anger that seemed to seep of of him in that moment.
"He—he's been dealing with some guilt."
"Guilt?" Nicky's brow furrowed.
"But it was an accident. He didn't mean to—"
"Accident or not, Nicky, it doesn't change how he feels. He's… well, he's taking some time for himself," Paul said, his tone clipped, a brisk finality edging its way into the room.
Nicky shifted uncomfortably, feeling the bitterness covered in Paul's anger. Deep inside, she knew that Embry had been scared too. But she didn't understand—why was he avoiding her like a phantom?
"Can you just tell him I want to see him?" Her voice was steadier now, a quiet determination overriding the pain that lay beneath her skin.
"I'll think about it," Paul replied tersely, clearly not inclined to discuss Embry any further.
As Paul left the room, closing the door more firmly than usual, Nicky stared at the ceiling, a cloud of uncertainty wrapping around her. Leah, who had been a comforting presence over the past few days, knocked gently before entering. Nicky's spirits lifted slightly at the sight of her; Leah had a warmth about her, an easy smile that felt like sunlight cutting through her clouded world.
Later that day, while Nicky was in bed, staring at her ceiling, trying to lust in the feelings of her pain meds, letting the calm, woozy effects wash over her, Leah came into her room to keep her company.
"Hey there, how are we feeling?" Leah asked, setting down a book on the edge of the bed.
"Hazy," Nicky confessed, "but the doctor says it's normal. You can't trust these painkillers."
"They can be a double-edged sword," Leah said, her voice soothing. She perched on the edge of the bed, her eyes probing but gentle.
"You know, seeing you like this… it's tough for all of us."
Nicky frowned, her heart racing.
"I miss Embry. I thought maybe he'd be here while I recovered."
Leah hesitated then leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"Paul's protective of you—he's been keeping a tight rein on things. I think he wants to shield you from Embry until he's ready to face you again." Leah whispered.
Nicky felt a flush of anger and sadness wash over her.
"But I need him. I thought we had something. Why is this happening?"
Leah offered a sympathetic smile, a small bridge in the chasm of confusion Nicky felt.
"That's the thing about relationships; they can get complicated. Just hang in there, Nicky. It will get better. Maybe Paul's heart is in the right place, but you deserve to make your own decisions about who you want in your life."
Nicky turned her gaze toward the window, watching the trees sway gently outside, their leaves catching the sun. She thought of Embry and the way he had smiled, how his presence felt like the warmest blanket wrapping around her. The idea of losing that connection hurt more than anything.
Determination bubbled within her. She needed to get better—not just for herself but also for the hope of seeing Embry again.
"Leah," she said suddenly, resolve returning to her voice. "Can you help me write him a letter? I need him to know I want to talk."
Leah's eyes sparkled with admiration.
"Of course. Let's make it count. I'm totally on your side, chica." She said her her natural mischevious, shameless, down for anything attitude.
As Leah gathered the supplies, Nicky felt an unfamiliar lightness settle in her chest. The path to recovery would be long and tedious, but it was a journey she wouldn't take alone.
With every word she pushed onto the page, she was reclaiming her strength, her voice. Whatever lay ahead, she was ready to face it—all of it, broken ribs and pain, uncertainty and fear—all for the chance to reach out to Embry.
The whole pack had come by to see Nicky, well except Embry… he's been absent and it hurt immensely. But its felt nice to be able to lean on the pack, like family, while she healed.
Leah had been a welcome presence amidst the chaos. In the awkward intimacy of showering assistance and helping her change clothes, they had begun forging a bond that transcended the superficialities of casual acquaintance. Leah spoke softly, sharing stories of their pack's history, recounting memories of laughter and camaraderie that made Nicky feel like a part of something larger. Each shared laugh, each moment of vulnerability took them further along the path of friendship.
But for all the laughter Leah brought, Nicky's heart yearned for Embry. She couldn't shake the feeling that he was somewhere, perhaps burdened by his own guilt, nursing a wound that mirrored her own. She thought back to their last interaction—her heart racing in a tangle of adrenaline and fear when he'd lost control. It had been an accident. She needed to tell him that.
As the days ticked on, the pack continued to rotate in and out of her room, Jacob being particularly bright and boisterous, Sam radiating calmness, and Jared providing comic relief when the silence grew too heavy. Nicky felt loved, cocooned by their support, yet Embry's absence loomed over it all, casting shadows on her recovery.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, an unexpected knock shattered the stillness. Paul's voice, low and irritated, barely registered as he opened the door. But it was the figure that stepped inside that caused Nicky's heart to leap into her throat—Embry.
He stood there, tense and visibly shaken, as if he had been wrestling with his own thoughts. His eyes darted around the room before landing on her. The last three days had drained a bit of light from his usually vibrant demeanor. He looked vulnerable, weary, and it struck her deeply to see him like this.
"Hey, Nicky," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine.
"Hey," she breathed, the weight of unsaid words hanging between them. "I—I've been worried."
His expression shifted, guilt washing over his features as he moved closer.
"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. I didn't know what to say."
"Just... tell me you're okay," she urged, the raw honesty of her request spilling out. "I don't want you to feel like it's your fault. It was an accident, Embry."
A tense silence enveloped them, laden with unspoken fears and the distance that had grown since that fateful night. But as he stepped forward, his hand trembling slightly as it found hers, a glimmer of hope ignited within Nicky's chest.
"I'm here now," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.
"I can't change what happened, but I want to help you heal. I want to be here for you." He pushed out, his eyes landing on hers, dark circled evident beneath his eyes.
With a rush, Nicky squeezed his hand, anchoring herself in this moment.
"Then let's heal together," she whispered back, feeling as if they were both emerging from a storm and into the light, hand in hand, ready to face whatever came next.
In bed, surrounded by the warmth of friendship and slowly mending bonds, Nicky felt something shift inside her—not just in her body, but in her heart. Though she was still fragile, the bloom of healing felt like it was finally, truly begining.
"But… I'm not staying." Embry said, his words shocking Nicky, causing her heart to start to beat fast as she took in the words that she couldn't believe had escaped his mouth.
Nicky wanted to believe Embry's words weren't real, just a haze of delusion beneath the large amount of painkillers she had ingested today. Nicky's heart felt like it was jumping out of her chest, she started shaking slightly in the bed were she lay, sweat started to pool beneath her hairline on her forehead and her breaths hitched as she took in Embry's words.
"You're— you're not staying? You're leaving again?" Nicky breathed out in a shaky voice, not really wanting to hear his answer, but needing to know, desperately needing to know his answer.
Embry's face became a stoic, cold, emotionless mask, as he watched Nicky's complexion change from excited, animated, thrilled to see him to so sad and nervous that he was going to leave again that she was on the verge of hyperventilation.
"Yeah, I'm not living in LaPush right now." Embry was barley able to push the words out of his lips, knowing it was going to break Nicky even further, but he did it.
Nicky could feel the edge of despair clawing at her throat as she replayed Embry's words in her mind. He was leaving. Again. It felt like it was becoming a recurring tragedy in her life, because he had just broken her heart for the past couple of days by being so absent, but here they were once more.
She thought that Embry was going to stay when he first walked into her room, but he wasn't. Nicky suddenly felt like she couldn't breathe.
Pain started to flare in her ribs—remnants of the recent accident that had left her battered and bruised both physically and emotionally. She had been looking forward to Embry's visit, perhaps a glimpse of hope that he might stay, but instead, he had pulled the rug out from under her with a simple declaration, his expression unreadable.
"I can't hurt you again, Nicky. I won't do that to you. I can't. I won't be staying."
Every word had been like a knife, piercing through her shield of strength. Nicky felt something inside her shatter. With each breath, the sense of abandonment grew heavier, constricting her chest tighter until panic set in. Hyperventilating, she gasped for air, but instead of relief, sharp pain arced through her torso—her ribs, intensifying her distress.
"Nicky?" The voice was deep and familiar, cutting through the fog of her turmoil.
It was Paul, her older brother, rushing into the room, his fierce protective instincts kicking into overdrive.
"Get out! Leave! Now!" Paul she yelled, coldly at Embry, who was wide eyed, standing in the doorway, away from Nicky, who had seemed to suddenly start shaking, a sign of an impending phase.
But Nicky was barely registering the two men's conversation, she just felt overwhelmed, overstimulated and she was suddenly unable to take in air. Nicky felt like she was choking on sadness, pain and she felt like she was losing everything connecting her to this earth. He was her imprint, and he didn't want her— not like this and he was going to leave her—again.
Paul moved quickly, sitting beside Nicky on the bed and taking her hands in his.
"Breathe with me, Nicky. Just one breath at a time, okay? In and out." His voice was steady, a grounding force amidst the storm swirling in her mind. With each command, he modeled the rhythm of his breaths, coaxing her to mirror him.
Nicky struggled at first, tears spilling down her cheeks as she fought against the overwhelming tide of panic. But with her brother beside her, guiding and encouraging, she felt her breathing start to even out, amidst the chaos.
She inhaled deeply, feeling the sting in her ribs flare but not deter. Paul didn't flinch, holding her gaze and nodding, silently encouraging her to continue.
Slowly, her breaths became more measured. The biting edge of fear receded, leaving behind a dull, throbbing ache in her ribs—a reminder of her fragile state.
And then, with each controlled breath, the weight of Embry's departure began to lift, if only slightly.
"I don't understand why he's doing this to me," she whispered, the trembling in her voice slowly fading.
"He makes me think everything can be okay, finally, then he just leaves." She whispered as tears began to fill her eyes.
Paul's grip tightened, his face a mask of resolute care.
"Nicky, you're stronger than this. You deserve more than what he's giving you, right now. YJust focus on healing, getting better and remember that everyone else is here for you. I don't even know why he came here today, I shouldn't have let him in, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Paul said, anguish, torment and anger clear as day in his eyes.
Nicky nodded, both grateful and pained. The truth in his words was hard to swallow.
"Thank you, Paul," she murmured, the gratitude unfolding in her chest, warmer than the pain.
"I just… it hurts so much."
"I know, sis. It's okay to hurt. Just remember, you're not alone. I'm here. We're all here for you. You'll be safe, I promise." Paul said, as he gently got in bed beside her, as tears rushed down her face and he gently pulled her into a hug, taking her frail, fragile body into the warmth of his arms.