After 49 minutes of driving, we pull up at the hospital.
Asher and I didn't say anything the whole ride.
When we park, he looks at me.
"Are you okay?" He asked, the concern clear in his eyes.
I nodded my head, still not looking at him.
"Molly." He said.
"I'm fine." I whispered.
I'm not fine.
One look at him and I knew that he could tell I was lying.
Asher engulfs me in a hug.
He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't have to.
His actions do the talking.
I pull away from the hug.
"Let's go." I say quietly.
We both get out of the car and walk up to the hospital doors.
When we walk through the door, Asher takes my hand.
I know he just did it to comfort me, but for some reason it sent a shiver down my body.
Weird.
YOU ARE READING
49
Short Story"The number 49 never used to have any significance in my life. It was always just the number after 48 and before 50. But that was before it happened."
