Page 179 of Return Policy
I can’t do this again.
This can’t happen again.
Why isn’t he moving?
* * *
“I’m sorry,” Noah says gently after filling me in on what the doctor told Coach Porter. “That’s all we know.”
“So what?” I snap, pacing the hospital waiting room. “He’s unconscious and none of us can see him because we don’t share his blood?”
I glance around at the burly guys all sitting in the chairs around me. Usually you can’t get them to shut up, but the room is quieter than our campus library.
“It’s protocol, Soph,” Charlie says gently. “He’s over eighteen. So besides the coach, only his family can get information or visit him.”
“This is ridiculous. Elijah’s mom can’t get a flight for two days because of the holiday. He shouldn’t be alone.” I collapse into a chair, and Sage settles next to me. “I can’t do this again.”
Memories of Chloe’s accident flood to the forefront of my mind. Everything from the past few months with Seth… It’s just all too much. Tears blur my vision, and I try to push them down, but it’s no use.
“Everything’s gonna be fine, Joey,” Sage says, rubbing my back as Charlie places her hand on my leg from the other side.
“He’s going to be okay,” Charlie says assuredly.
“You don’t know that,” I snap at her, my voice cracking.
A large hand rests loosely on my knee as I hear a familiar husky voice say, “Hey, angel face.” My eyes pop open to the sight of Theo glancing around the room, and then he drops his voice to a low whisper. “Think you might wanna be Sunny Anderson for a few hours?”
Hope blooms in my chest as my heart rate accelerates. “Are you suggesting what I think you are?”
His blue-green eyes bore into mine. “They’ll only allow family to visit him in ICU. As far as I can tell, you have an ID suggesting you are.” He smiles and winks before striding away. Sage nudges my back, and I stand up, pulling my fake out of the back of my phone case.
Deep breaths calm me, and I head to the front desk as Elijah’s teammates smile at me in encouragement.
“Excuse me,” I say squeakily to a nurse typing away on her computer.
Her fingers pause, and she glances up at me, expression blank. “Yes?”
“Can I please speak to the doctor on Elijah Anderson’s case?”
“May I ask your relation to the patient?” she asks in a monotone voice, returning to type something on her computer.
“I’m his wife.”
Her eyes snap to mine. “Can I please see some ID?” I slide my fake across the small counter, and she picks it up, examining it. I risk a glance at Coach Porter, who cocks a brow at me but doesn’t blow my cover. “Young love, huh? Let me go see what I can do.”
She leaves the room, and I turn around to all eyes on me as slaphappy grins spread across their faces.Holy shit. Did that actually work?I give a subtle thumbs up, and the boys all cheer and high five.
“Shhh,” I say, gesturing downward with my hands.
Coach Porter turns toward the boys with folded arms, leveling them with a single look.
“Sorry, Mrs. Anderson,” Theo coos, and hearing that does something funny to my insides. The thrill of italmostdistracts me enough to forget the entire reason we’re here in the first place.
* * *
The seconds tick by slower than sand in an hourglass as I wait for the doctor to come through the doors.
“Mrs. Anderson?” someone calls out, and Sage kicks me when I don’t respond.
