FRACTURED: A Broken Series Companion Novel (Damaged, Book 4) (PREVIEW)

FIVE

RYAN

2 WEEKS LATER

This morning, after my follow-up x-ray, I was finally given the okay to leave this sterile prison. It's been a long time coming, but Nia—a friendly, middle-aged nurse with ebony skin and a smile that makes you feel like she just baked you a batch of homemade cookies—has said my bones are now fused enough to support my weight. And the multiple skin grafts I've cursed for nearly a month are finally at a point where they're healing beautifully.

I appreciated the assurance, but by the pitying expression I usually get, I know her words are only meant to soften the truth.

"You know you don't have to placate me, Nia. I'm a big boy," I say with a hint of humour.

Being the nurse on duty both times Hannah had been rushed here, it wasn't that long ago that I first met the quick-witted, full-of-personality nurse with a talent for flirting and a penchant for making me blush. I'd often joke that if Hannah ever left me, Nia would be the woman for me. But after getting to know a certain brown-eyed blonde, I'm worried I won't want anyone else.

"I'm sure you are, sweetheart." She winks with a wide grin, latching on to the opening I unwittingly gave her. "But I placate no one. I tell it like it is. And you, my dear, are like a fractured vase. You've been glued back together, but it's your choice how you view the scars. You can choose to see them as ugly points of weakness, or you can choose to see them as beautiful bonds of strength and resilience. There are very few people in this world who could have survived what you did. The fact that your body is even able to heal itself...after something so horrible..." She waves her head and sighs. "...It's nothing short of amazing."

My chest warms.

She has always known what to say to make any situation lighter.

"Thanks, Nia. I really needed to hear that."

"You're very welcome. Now... How does it feel to finally be getting out of here?"

"It feels pretty good, I guess. But you know I'm going to miss you."

"Well, I would hope so," she says shamelessly.

"It'll also be nice to be able to wear something that covers my backside. This gown is a little drafty," I note, pulling out the sides of my johnny shirt and housecoat to emphasize my point.

"I know several nurses who will miss the sight of that backside. Myself included," she says with a wink. Her candidness makes me chuckle.

It seems so foreign to me now—being able to laugh at something.

It's like a lost relic Bri has somehow unearthed in me.

"But I'd still recommend wearing loose clothing for the next week or so. To give the grafts a little more time to heal. Now, I'm going to step outside so you can get ready. Then I'll be back with your pain meds, antibiotics, and special care instructions."

"Thanks, Nia."

"My pleasure, honey."

As I reach for a present Charlotte had brought for me, she hurries out of my room, closing the door behind her.

Facing the opposite direction, I finish gathering the last of my belongings, getting lost inside my head, thinking about who I'm going to miss the most when I leave here.

I grab an outfit from the bag my parents brought and strip off the green housecoat, feeling the cool air of the room through the open back of my johnny shirt.

The sound of someone's gasp has me spinning around, and I catch sight of Bri throwing her hands off the handles of a wheelchair and slapping them over her nose and mouth. Eyes bulging, a deep shade of red flushes her cheeks behind her fingers.