When the fear of isolation pulls Ashton and Ria together, nothing can prepare them for the collision. An anomaly shatters the repetitive fabric of their lives, sending them on a journey of discovering themselves and one another.
Beneath Ashton's gen...
❝If you forget, you won't be sad and it won't hurt as much.❞
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
ANOTHER DAYPASSES with Ria trapped in a hospital bed. Another day without a word from Ashton. Another day of her friends watching her like hawks as she drifts between pain pills, numbing medication, and a new prescription for her bipolar disorder to prevent impending panic attacks and manic or depressive episodes.
On top of that, she has an appointment with a therapist as soon as she leaves the hospital; courtesy of her friends forcing the idea on her. Apparently, it's supposed to help her cope with the aftermath of being stabbed, having a murdered child surgically removed from her, and having her stitched back up like an innocent life never lived inside her for ephemeral moments.
She's gradually coming to terms with the trauma she's endured in the past seventy-two hours. At times, it feels like everything is a dream that Ashton will eventually wake her up from, others it feels like a horror movie where her soul is entrapped.
Chris hasn't left her side for a moment of it. He's watched over her for every extensive hour while promising that she'll be out soon. That she'll be okay. Everything will be okay.
Except nothing is okay without Ashton by her side.
When she reawakens, continuously losing track of the time, a nurse is slipping out of the room and Chris is easing in. The door seals shut behind him with a sift click. Ria groans and turns her head to the side as he slides into the seat next to her.
"Hey, babe." He rubs her hand tenderly and gives her one of his timid smiles. "They just wanted to check your stitches and bandages. They said in another day or two, you can get out."
"Where's Ashton?" Sluggish movements guide her tongue. Eyelids are heavy from leftover sleep and medication. "He should be here by now."
"I don't know where he is. All I know is-"
"Jesus, Chris," comes an agitated voice as the door to her room swings open and bangs against the wall behind it. Sophia stands beneath the threshold, frizzy hair thrown up in a bun, unsheathing her sharp blue eyes. Tiny fists are planted on her slim waist as she glowers at Chris. Dea peeks over her shoulder, the definition of calm and collected. "Stop hogging Ria like she's yours. Get. Out."
Chris' eyes narrow into slits and his chest inflates. "Can you ever keep it down?"
"Not when annoying tools like you are in the room," she sneers with venom and waltzes over to Ria's bedside.
"Let's not get rowdy again guys. Ria's just waking up." Dea eyes Chris warily as she follows Sophia in. "The last thing she needs is drama."
Chris avoids Dea's gaze and Ria can only wonder how awkward she would feel if she weren't on pain medication. Here stands her ex-boyfriend who slept with one of her friends who is now dating her best friend.
