I was used to Faye's rapid-fire questioning method and answered them in standard form. "In pain, no, about ten minutes before you got here."
"Well I miss you and the furballs miss you so basically you need to get better and come home," she summarized.
"I'll keep that in mind," I deadpanned. "My healing has increased exponentially. Thank you for your wisdom, O Mighty Faye."
She started to reach out to punch my arm then thought better of it. "Oh, you know what I mean."
"Yeah, I do. I want to go home probably as much as you want me home. No doctor has come in since I woke up though so I'm not sure when they'll free me."
"It'll probably be another week," Nick said as he slid into a chair nearest the door. "Ugh, that cart business was a mess. Some kids visiting their mom decided to race it like a shopping cart in a grocery store and it crashed into the nurses' station. Vials of medication shattered everywhere."
"Poor you," I said.
"You could be more sympathetic," he said with a pout.
"I'd be more sympathetic if you let me out."
"Sorry sister dear," he teased with a wink. "Not my call. They want to monitor you for a while. You did just lose an organ after all."
"Nooooo," Faye moaned. "I can't deal with all these freaking cats without her to run interference."
I laughed again before hissing in pain. Still a bad idea. "I'm sure you'll survive just fine."
"No I can't, it's grumpy furball apocalypse. You know they like you better," she huffed as she pushed her hair out of her face. "I refuse to deal with it alone a moment longer, even if it means I wheel you out of here personally."
"Good luck with that," I said with a little laugh, hissing in pain.
She huffed before sitting by my bed, completely serious. "I'm glad you're okay. We were all really worried about you. Jonathan's been here almost as much as I have."
Right after Faye said that, he walked through the door. "Lori! You're awake!"
"Speak of the devil," Faye deadpanned.
"So I'm the devil now?" he asked her with a grin.
"You know what I mean."
"Yeah, yeah." Jonathan shook his head, still smiling, and sat down on the other side of my bed, reaching out tenderly to hold my hand. Oh dear.
"That's our cue to leave," Faye announced before dragging a protesting Nick out the door. She winked at me on the way out as if she was doing me a favor when really being alone with Jonathan was the last thing I wanted right now.
His expression sobered once they were gone. "I was really worried about you."
"Clearly, I'm fine," I wheezed unconvincingly.
"I'm serious, Lori. You could have died. I don't know what I'd do without you," he said earnestly before biting his lip as if he'd said too much.
He'd be better off without me, honestly. I'm nothing more than a loveless leech trying to cover my tracks. I couldn't say that though so I kept my mouth shut. According to Nick, Jonathan had been by my bedside a lot. This was bad. He really cared about me. He probably even loved me. What a mess. I liked him as much as I could like a person (considering I only liked a few) but my feelings beyond that only extended to guilt for using him. And he thought he was in love with me. I'm a terrible person.
I attempted a light, joking tone. "You'd be fine."
He shook his head, frustrated. "No, I wouldn't be. You're important to me, Lori. You matter."
I really didn't want to talk about this now. Or ever, really, but especially not when I could hardly think through the haze of drugs and pain. "Can I go to sleep now?"
Guilt crossed his features and he backed up. "Yeah, sorry for keeping you. You need your rest. I'll be back later, okay? Maybe I'll bring the girls. They want to see you."
"That'd be nice," I mumbled sleepily.
"Love you."
"Love you too," I garbled out, not aware of what I was saying.
It was instinctual. The last time someone told me they loved me was Cindy the day my world fell apart. I always said it back. Of course I'd say it back this time in my drugged, defenseless state. I fell asleep before the implications hit.
When Nick came to check in on me the next morning, he was not happy to hear about it. "You what? Lori, how could you?"
"It was an accident!" I wailed. "He said love you and I said it back out of habit! It was the first time he'd said anything like that and I wasn't ready!"
He scrunched his brow in anger. "I told you this was a bad idea! And you went for it anyway. You're officially his girlfriend and you told him you loved him. Lori, you need to end this now."
"I'm in too deep," I moaned, my headache getting worse with the stress of the conversation. "There's no way out now. I need to see it through."
"Until what?" he demanded. He paced angrily around the room like a caged animal. "You're the one who said you wouldn't marry a guy for a cover story but it looks like you're heading that way after all."
"I won't let it get that far, like I said."
"Forgive me if I don't believe you."
I wanted to scream at him but I also knew that defending my actions was baseless. I screwed up. Big time. I didn't know what to do and couldn't come up with a plan because I was hopped up on pain meds and went back and forth between being lucid and delirious. Heaven forbid what I might let slip with the wrong person in the room.
"Do we have to talk about this now? I was in a car accident, dude. Give me a break," I complained.
Nick looked at me funny. "Did you seriously just call me 'dude'?"
"Dude, I'm from California. It's how we talk. Everybody calls everything dude," I giggled. "Duuuuuuuude."
"I didn't know you were from California."
"Yep," I said popping the 'p' loudly. "Born and raised. Haven't been back since I killed that murderer."
I was vaguely aware that I was talking too much but I was under the influence of narcotics and had no control over it. The tiny, sane part of my brain was grateful that it was just Nick rather than someone who didn't know the truth about me.
"Was he your first?"
"Uh huh," I slurred. It was getting harder to think but the words kept coming. "Didn't think I'd do it again but…kids needed better parents. Can't let them live with bad parents…bad parents gets you dead."
Nick sat down by me and held my hand as I rambled. "Did your dad have something to do with your sister's death?"
"He hurt us…she parkoured to escape…we were gonna run away but she died the way she lived…why?"
"Why what?" he asked gently.
"R*pe."
"I don't follow."
"The beginning and the end," I sighed. "The in-between. Cause and effect."
"I think your brain is mush. You should sleep," Nick said gently. "You aren't making any sense."
"Doesn't make sense," was the last thing I got out before going back under.