The Second Time Around

Chapter Two

Abby sat stiffly on the edge of the hospital bed, her discharge papers crumpled in her hands. The nurse had just finished going over instructions, and now the doctor stood in front of her, offering a kind smile that felt out of place in her world of confusion.

"You're free to go, Abby," Dr. Tate said, his tone gentle, as though speaking too loudly would break her. "But you will need someone to drive you home. Do you have any family nearby?"

Abby's heart sank. Her family was states away, far from this small Pennsylvania town she had apparently made her home with Drew. And that left her with only one option. She glanced toward the door, where Drew stood awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He'd been waiting quietly, keeping his distance like the doctor suggested, but always there. Always watching.

"No... no one's close by," she said softly, her voice barely audible. She looked at Drew and swallowed hard. "I guess... you'll have to take me."

Drew's eyes flickered with a mix of relief and something else she couldn't quite place. "Of course," he said quickly, stepping forward with more confidence than he had before. "I'll take you home."

The nurse handed Abby a small bag with her medications, and Dr. Tate gave her one last look of reassurance before he left the room. "Take it easy, Abby. Don't push yourself too hard. And if you need anything, don't hesitate to call."

With the formalities over, the awkwardness of the situation came crashing back in. Drew stood at the door, holding it open for her, as if he didn't quite know how close he was allowed to get. She slowly rose from the bed, feeling the slight wobble in her legs, and walked past him, avoiding his beautiful brown eyes.

The ride home was painfully silent. Today, Drew drove extra carefully. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white, and the quiet hum of the engine was the only sound that filled the car. No music. No casual conversation. Just the steady beat of her heart, loud in her ears.

She sat as far as she could from him in the passenger seat, but it wasn't enough to stop the feeling of awkwardness between them. The empty space felt too large, too fragile, like something was broken between them that neither of them knew how to fix.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Abby broke the silence.

"What... what happened to my Mustang?" she asked, her voice hesitant, as if she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

Drew's grip on the steering wheel tightened for a moment, his face unreadable. He exhaled slowly before answering. "It's totaled, Abby. The accident... the front end is completely crushed. The windshield shattered. Most of the frame is beyond repair."

Abby's stomach twisted at his words. She had loved that car, hadn't she? It was the one of the few things she could remember feeling connected to. She closed her eyes, imagining it—her Mustang, sleek and powerful, now just a crumpled mess of metal and glass.

"The engine..." Drew continued, his voice quieter now. "Some parts of it are salvageable. If you wanted to, we could build a new one together. I'd help you with the whole thing. I know how much you loved that car."

Abby shook her head, the knot in her stomach tightening. The thought of building a new car—of working on it with him—felt like too much. Too overwhelming. She didn't even know if she could be in the same room with him for too long without feeling disoriented.

"No, thank you," she said softly, staring out the window. "I don't think I can do that."

Drew's shoulders slumped slightly, but he didn't push. He nodded, his gaze focused on the road ahead, his disappointment palpable in the air between them.