Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 94 Ava: Lisa (I)

Three nights. Three lonely, empty nights staring at the sterile hospital ceiling. Only Lucas' voice on the phone breaks up the monotony, checking in on me each evening. I hate how much comfort I draw from hearing the deep, soothing rumble of his voice, hate that I keep glancing at the clock, waiting for his call.

Life is hard without Selene here. She would be able to help me work through these feelings. Separate what's me from the demands of my fate bond. Beyond that, she would have kept me entertained with her wry observations.

Dr. Beaumont had mentioned this morning that it seemed as though my rate of healing was increasing. Her confusion over it nags at me. Is Selene getting closer? After the car accident, I noticed my wounds knitting together faster once she returned. I'd assumed it was from my heat, but perhaps…

"Miss Grey?"

I look up to see the nurse peeking around my door, a hesitant smile on her face. "You have a visitor."

Visitor? I stare at her in confusion. Lucas is still away dealing with pack politics, and he would have called first anyway. My mind races, trying to figure out who it could possibly be, when a blur of motion pushes past the nurse.

"Ava!"

"Lise?" I barely have time to process what's happening before she's flinging her arms around me, squeezing me so tightly it borders on painful. "Ow, careful!"

"Sorry, sorry!" She loosens her grip immediately, leaning back to look at me. Her eyes are shining with unshed tears. "I was just so worried about you! God, Ava, what happened? Are you okay? Lucas called me, but he didn't explain much beyond you being in the hospital."

The worry and gentle nagging in her words, the way her eyes dart over my body, the way her hands flutter and hover over me as if she's not sure where to touch first—it all brings tears to my eyes.

I hiccup.

Then I sob.

Then, I weep.

No, it's not weeping. Weeping implies a woman who cries in silence, shoulders maybe trembling a little. Weeping is a beautiful art, an act that's painted in somber colors, touching all who view it.

I'm just…

Sobbing.

Wailing.

Blubbering.

all at once, in a sniffling mess of noise

Lisa's here.

I'm no longer alone.

on

Lisa will never judge.

won't force

shoulder in grief and terror. She doesn't ask; I don't

release

at least I have

My Lisa.

sore and swollen with the force of my sobbing, and my head

I find myself wondering how many kids

says, her question more a statement

I nod.

you want to talk about

I nod again.

I do.

want to talk to someone who can listen

her some things over time, but this is different. She's here. She's in front

So much has happened in such a

edge of the bed, grabbing