Chapter eleven

Iwake up groggy as hell.

My dry throat needs water, and my body aches like I was jostled in a tight compartment while I slept. When I open my eyes, Telemundo is on the TV screen, the monitor continues to make that annoying beeping sound, and there are fresh roses by the windowsill. The door opens and Abuela enters the room with a cup of coffee in her hand.

She speaks in Spanish since she can't speak English very well.

"Ah. You're awake." She sits in the chair beside the bed.

"How are you feeling?" She covers my hand with hers, careful not to disturb the IV.

"The doctor told me you had a rough night. You were running a fever and your blood pressure was a little higher than normal." She watches me the way Mom used to. I glance away in shame and tears start to cloud my vision.

"Do not turn away from me," she says in a firm tone as if she's scolding a child. I obey and turn back to face her.

Her white hair is pulled back into a bun. Abuela has beautiful, soft long hair, just like Mom. She looks tired. Her face appears weary and her skin tired.

"Talk to me. What is going on in that head of yours?"

I always enjoy these one-on-one talks with Abuela. She never judges me for the way I feel, or for the decisions I make. And believe me, I have made several stupid mistakes. She was the first person I told when I was pregnant. She was so supportive and took Sophia in after she was born as if she was her own. Looking at her now tired face, my chest burns from knowing I am the cause.

I can't add more stress onto her even when I feel like I'm dying from the inside out.

"I'm okay, Abuela. Don't worry so much."

"I will always worry about you, my sweet girl." Her eyes are shining with the threat of tears as sadness flits across her face.

Since Josiah's death, I haven't checked in on her and how she dealt with it all. I've been so wrapped up in self-pity that I had forgotten how this whole shit show affected her.

God, I'm such a bitch.

"How are you doing, Abuela?"

At my words, Abuela's face crumples like a used tissue. She hides her face in her hands, body trembling as she quietly sobs.

I try to reach for her, but my broken arm on the same side makes it impossible to move.

"Abuela." My voice cracks at watching her break down. Frustration builds from not being able to hold her like all the times she held me.

She looks up at the sound of my voice, and that's when I see it. She carried the weight of the world, not just for her daughter but for me, Josiah, and Sophia.

"Oh, my boy." Abuela sobs, and it breaks my heart to hear the pain in her cries.

I can no longer hold back my tears. Losing my brother is like a broken bone—the pain unbearable and unrelenting.

Suddenly, I'm swallowed up in Abuela's embrace as we find comfort in each other. I hold onto her and allow myself to fall apart, letting her know she's not alone.

"You're going to be ok, mija," Abuela says despite the crack in her voice; she has never sounded more serious. "I love you so much. Everything is going to be okay, te lo prometo."

Nurse Abbey pops her head through the crack in the door, the end of her ponytail draped over her shoulder.

"How's my favorite patient?" She smiles and walks into the room, pushing the mobile vitals monitor toward the bed.

"I'm fine." I pull the bed sheet closer to my chest.

Abuela scoffs.

"Well, that's good." Abbey wraps the blood pressure cuff around my bicep and presses the start button.

"Your fever is gone, and your color is coming back." After Abbey finishes taking my vitals and temperature, she tells me everything looks good and says, "Your boyfriend has been trying to see you."

"Boyfriend?" I raise a brow at her.

Abbey looks back at me. "Yeah, your boyfriend. I don't remember high school guys looking that hot in my day." She dramatically fans her face with the clipboard and winks at me.

"He's been sitting outside your door since last night." She smiles. I give her a nod and she walks over to the door to let him in. My breath catches in my throat when I see how yummy he looks.

He's wearing a fitted gray hoodie that outlines the muscles in his arms and chest, black joggers, and a pair of white Nikes. He walks further into the room and has his hands tucked into his pant pockets. The look on his face makes me want to cry. His skin is pale with dark circles underneath his eyes like he hasn't slept or eaten in the last twenty-four hours.

"Hey," he says quietly but it still sends shivers down my spine.

"I'm going to go now to give you some alone time." Abuela stands up and leans over to give me a kiss on the cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too." I give her a hug before she steps away and leaves the room but not before she gives Donnie a kiss on his cheek, bringing a sweet smile to his face. She tells me goodbye and that she'll be back with Sophie. My gaze locks on Donnie's deep ocean eyes, but I'm the first one to break eye contact before the urge to jump into his arms takes over me.

"What are you doing here?"

"Is that a serious question?" he says in a disbelieving tone.

"I didn't mean it that way. I just meant…never mind."

Donnie walks closer until he's standing at the end of the bed. He leans forward, gripping the footboard.

"I was outside your door when the nurses ran in here earlier. I was trying to get to you, but security pulled me back. I haven't left since."

"You just can't help it, can you?" I shake my head but can't hide my smile.

"Can't help what? Wanting to be near you?" He sits on the side of the bed.

"Donnie, as much as I love you being here, you can't keep your life on hold for me. You need to focus on yourself and your future." I look away from him and focus on the beautiful red roses that are starting to blossom.

"You think I give two fucks about any of that?" he says in a serious tone.

My head snaps back to him. "How can you say that?" I say, horrified at the thought of him putting me above his future. There's no way in hell I am going to let him do that.

"You really think I can just go back to my life as if you're not sitting here hurting, suffering because of everything you've been through?"

"Yes!"

He rears back as if I punched him.

"You think that little of yourself?" he asks in disbelief.

"It's not about me. It—"

"Yes, it is!" he interrupts. Donnie abruptly gets up from the bed and paces the room. He grips the back of his neck and looks up to the ceiling, letting out a frustrated growl as if he is trying to keep his emotions in check.

I sit and wait quietly, not wanting to push him further.

Donnie is his own storm. When there's a shift in him, his eyes darken. I feel the change on my skin and deep within my soul. He waits until the right time to release the strong winds of his emotions, and his words strike me like lightning. He becomes unstable and leaves a violent disturbance in his wake. When the storm finally settles, he takes in the destruction he left behind and allows his heart to feel the pain he left behind, to punish himself for hurting those around him in the process.

I wish I could be his sun when his feelings are fighting to rip through the clouds and drench his world with tears of pain. I thought my tornado of emotions would pick him up and twist his heart with the blade of my past. All we can do is protect the ones we love, and if necessary, say goodbye to keep them safe.

"There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you." Donnie's voice is full of sadness. "You own my heart, just like I own yours."

"Donnie…" I breathe out, trying to ignore the way my heart beats against my chest.

"Don't." He rushes to my side. Using his free hand, he tucks one of my curls over my ear and rubs his thumb on the side of my face. "Just don't," he pleads.

"Don't what?" I whisper.

Donnie leans in and gently brushes his lips against mine. "Don't deny that you haven't been mine. It's always been you," he whispers against my lips.

He cups my face with his strong hands. "I love you. I've been in love with you for years, even when you weren't with me."

I knew deep down his love for me was more than friendship but hearing him say the words does something inside of me.

"To be honest, it scares the shit out of me." He chuckles.

"What? Why?" I ask.

Donnie rests his forehead against mine and breathes out his next words. "It scares me how much I love you. I love you enough to burn the world down for you. To hurt anyone who breaks your heart. To keep you all to myself. To—"

What I'm about to do is probably fucked up, especially with everything going on, but I can't help myself. I need to feel something.

With my one good hand, I grab his shirt, pulling him in until my lips smash against his. He responds by wrapping his arms around me, pulling me closer to him. I moan in his mouth and then he pulls away.

DONOVAN

There is no way in hell I am going to make love to Shorty on a hospital bed, especially after all that she's been through.

When I pull away from her lips, her sad puppy face makes me want to dive back in, but she deserves better.

She's hurting and looking for a distraction.

I clear my throat, trying to slow down the racing of my heart as it threatens to rip out of my chest.

"Baby, if you keep making those noises, I won't be able to stop."

"I don't want you to stop," she purrs.

My entire body stills.

She has no idea what she's asking of me. I haven't had sex since before she came back into my life, and trust me, my guy is itching to get some Shorty action.

She leans back and away from me, and my hands fall from her hips. Shorty keeps her eyes focused on me.

"Not like this. Not here." I tip my head down to look at her.

"You don't want me?"

"Of course, I want you." I grit my teeth. "You feel this?" I grab her hand and put it on the outside of my joggers.

"Oh." A flush creeps across her cheeks.

I chuckle at her reaction.

"Don't ever doubt that I want you. I want to do it right. You deserve that, Shorty."

The rest of the evening, Shorty finally eats and slowly goes back to her old self.

We watch reruns of Blue Bloods with her curled up beside me.

If there's one thing I'm sure of, it's that Shorty has been meant for me since we were six years old.

And she will always be mine.