My Lovely Jerk {Completed}

Chapter - 41

Elle’s P.O.V

I cried tears of pure happiness the second I laid eyes on Peter. All anger and negative thoughts of Bryson escaped my mind at the mere sight of my brother.

His head turned in my direction and his cocoa colored eyes locked with mine. I watched as his chapped lips curved up into a wide smile. “Hey, Sis,” Was the first thing he said to me.

My feet had been planted right behind the, now shut door, but the second he spoke my legs kicked into action and I raced over to him. I engulfed my brother in a bone crushing hug as I cried some more. “I missed you, so much!” I honestly stated. Peter groaned and it was then that I knew I must be hurting him. Letting go of his fragile body, I stood up straight by his bed side. “Where is Mom?” I questioned as I noticed she wasn’t in the room.

“She went to go get me a sprite because I’m killin’ for a carbonated drink. The doctor just left the room, before you walked in, and okayed me to have sprite - but nothing else due to the fact that I’ve not had any real food in a week.” Peter pointed to a tube that was sticking out of the right side of his bed and leading to what looked like an extra I.V bag but I could tell it was not I.V fluid because it wasn’t clear like the saline. “They put me on a feeding tube the night I went on the ventilator. They stopped the feeding tube when they realized I was waking up. The doctor said that a nurse will take it out today.” Peter lamely stated.

I nodded at his explanation before my eyes settled on about six vases of flowers that were on his nightstand. I raised an eyebrow because I had not noticed those the last time I was up here. “Did mom get you those?” I asked as I walked around his bed and took a sniff of one of the red roses that were crammed in with others in one of the vases.

“No ... Mother doesn’t know where they came from. She says every morning when she would come in my room; a new vase would be in here. She doesn’t know who it could be from.” Peter exclaimed as he looked down at his white blanket. Even though I couldn’t see it on his face, I could hear it in his voice - he was not telling me something.

“But you know who they are from,” I concluded as I studied him.

He lifted his head and looked at me. Pointing to a white card in the middle of one of the bouquet, he said nothing.

I grabbed the thick note card that was wedged in the bouquet. Opening it I saw that there was only one letter written in the card:

M.

I placed the card next to the vase and gazed over at Peter. “M? Who could that-” I paused mid-sentence as I realized who it was. “Misty?”

Peter gave a nod but kept his lips finely pressed together.

“What is it Peter? I can tell you are holding something back,” I exclaimed.

He sighed and looked to be debating about something. “The - The night of the wreck is fuzzy...” He trailed off after a few words.

“Yeah, it is blurry to me too. All I can remember is saying mean things to - to Kat, Randall and you ... and the sound of glass shattering...” I admitted as the sound ricocheted repeatedly in my mind.

“They and I forgive you, you know that right?” Peter proclaimed.

I sat down in the chair by his bed and stared down at my hands. “How do we know that Kat and Randall forgive me? ... They aren’t here...” I started to twiddle my thumbs as I begged myself not to cry anymore.

“You and I both know those two were fifty times more forgiving than me. The words you spoke aren’t even the worst you three have spoken to one another. They would have been upset, I will not lie, but they would have forgiven you - like I have."