Her eyes are shut, but when she opens them, a small smile plays at her lips. “Hey, you.”

Hey, you? Is she serious right now? She’s going to say Hey, you so casually when I’m being ripped to shreds inside? I scan her body, taking her in. Straps hold her steady on the gurney. She has a bandage on her arm, and her head is bleeding once again, just like the first time I found her.

“Ren, what . . .” I catch my breath. “What the hell happened?”

“Not sure, honestly. I was walking home just as after-school activities got out.” She winces. “And I heard the crunching of metal right before I blacked out. One of the EMTs said a piece of wood hit me in the head as well as the arm.”

I drag my hand over my mouth, my mind racing. This is because of me.

She is hurt because of me.

“Are you okay?”

She takes my shaky hand in hers. “Yes, I’m okay.”

I lean down and cup her cheek, looking her in the eyes, checking to see if she’s lucid. “God, Ren. I’m . . . I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Her brow creases for a second before she winces again.

“I . . .” I scan the area again, unable to voice the terrified thoughts filling my mind. “How come no one is taking care of you? Why aren’t you at the hospital yet?”

“I told them to take care of the kids first.” She grips my hand. “Hey, Griffin. Everything is okay.”

I shake my head, unable to look at the blood on her face any longer, at the pain I’ve caused her. “Uh, I’m going to go see if they need any help with cleanup.”

“Griffin, wait. Talk to me.”

“I can’t.” I bow my head forward. “I can’t.”

A few tests and three stitches above her eyebrow later, I’m pulling up in front of Ren’s house and helping her out of the car. She already has a black eye forming and some bruising on her arm. She’s sore and tired and concussed. Out of all the victims involved in the accident, she got the brunt of it. She already has the next few days off from work, and I volunteered to stay with her tonight.

Not that volunteering was much of a hardship; it’s a necessity at this point.

“Are you doing okay? Feeling queasy?” I ask as I open the front door.

“I’m doing okay right now, but I think I want to go straight up to bed, if that’s okay. I’m really tired.”

“I know, and you can sleep, but I’m going to be waking you up every hour to check on you like the doctor said,” I say, guiding her inside the house.

“As long as you’re next to me, that’s all I care about.”

I help her up the narrow staircase, holding her arm so she doesn’t fall. Her legs are unsteady, so I make sure to keep her as close to me as possible.

We make it to her bedroom, where I quickly change her clothes and then pull back the covers of her bed and help her onto her plush mattress, a mattress I’ve spent a few nights on already.

“I’m going to go get you some water and lock up the house,” I say once she’s settled. “Do you need anything else?”

“Just you.” She snuggles into my hand before letting it go and turning on her side.

With a heavy sigh, I make my way to her kitchen and pull my phone from my pocket. A slew of texts from my family lights up my phone. I don’t even bother reading them. Instead, I send them a quick update.

Griffin: Ren is back at her house. I’m staying here for the night to make sure she’s okay in the morning. Please cover for me. Thanks.

I turn my phone off and put it back in my pocket, not wanting to deal with any of their responses. I grip the edge of the counter for support as I bend my head forward in exhaustion.

I’m physically tired and mentally at my breaking point.

Torn between needing to make sure Ren is safe and needing to distance myself from her to keep her safe from me, I contemplate my next move.

She needs me now, she wants me now, and I need to be there for her. Even though there is a war raging inside of me, telling me to stay away, to keep my distance, that if I get any closer, something even worse is going to happen.

Nauseous and distraught, I rub both hands over my face before kicking off my shoes and filling up a glass of water for her.

For now, I will take care of her, but I can’t make any promises about tomorrow.

One day at a time.

One minute at a time.

I stir awake, Ren’s long brown hair tickling the underside of my chin. Rain is pelting the window, making the morning much darker than normal.

I spent the night waking up every hour and making sure Ren was recovering okay from her concussion. I barely got any sleep and must have forgotten to set my alarm for the last wake-up.

Slight panic hits me until I look down to find a light smile play across her lips as she peacefully sleeps.

She’s okay.

Still shaken, I pull at my hair.

A two-by-four hit Ren on the head, knocking her out clean. What were the chances of something like that happening to her? Or the chances of her having the worst injury yesterday?

And right after we started dating?

I bite my bottom lip as my head falls back to the headboard, my eyes shut, the truth hitting me harder than I want as the palm reader’s face invades my mind.

It’s a sign.

A warning.

A blatant red flag telling me to stay away.

What else could it have been? Out of all the people to get hurt, Ren was the one who suffered most. I glance down at her beautiful face, bruised and battered, like she went ten rounds in a boxing ring. My stomach clenches, my chest tightening with pure fear.

I did this to her. She’s hurt because of me, because of the black cloud that hangs over me.

If I stay with her, what else could possibly happen to her?

Fuck, I don’t even want to find out.

Even though this woman has come into town like a beautiful windstorm and swept me up into her little world, I know it can’t last. For her safety, for my peace of mind, I can’t be with her, even though it will destroy me. In just a few months, Ren has rocked me to my very core, burying herself deep within my bone marrow. And there’s no doubt in my mind that when I walk away, she’s going to stay there for a very long time.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

REN

I look up at the red-and-white sign that lights up the end of Main Street. THE LOBSTER LANDING. It seems so calm and peaceful right now, sans the hustle and bustle of tourists, and yet my world feels the exact opposite.

Just some advice to anyone listening: If you have the choice of being hit on the head by a two-by-four, say no. Bypass that little experiment, because I’m going to tell you right now, it’s no walk in the park.

The last few days I’ve had a headache and unending nausea.

Although that could be from all the worrying.

Let’s just say I haven’t had the best of luck when it comes to cars. Car accident back home that left me fighting for my life. Car accident here in Port Snow that left me fighting for my independence. And car accident in front of school—technically I wasn’t in a car, but the two-by-four left an impact—and this accident, I think, has been the worst of them all, because it’s left me fighting for my love.

You would think I would never want to be near another road again, but funnily enough, it’s the exact opposite. Being in all these accidents has only convinced me of one thing: I am resilient.

I am strong and capable of taking care of myself.

And I’m also determined, because no matter what gets in my way, I’m still going to face my fears. It’s why I told my parents right away about the accident—pretty sure my mom fainted—but I was open and honest with them. And I’m damn proud of myself for doing that.

It’s why I’m standing outside of the Lobster Landing, nervous as hell but with pride and determination in every single one of my steps. I will not cower. I will not let a speed bump steal my happiness.

I haven’t seen Griffin since the morning after the accident. He’s sent me texts checking up on me, but he hasn’t stopped by, and when I call, he texts me to say he’s busy but to let him know if I need anything.

Yes, I do need something.

I need him.

Three long days and no Griffin. I’m trying to convince myself that he’s just really busy with all the things he’s in charge of, that he’s not in fact pulling away.

But who am I kidding? Before the accident, he made time for me every day. Even after his shift at the fire department, he would sneak into my house and into my bed, where he would hold me all night.

There is no sneaking into my house.

There is no cuddling.

There is no Griffin.

And I’m worried.

I’m worried that he’s letting the “curse” get into his head. That he thinks he’s to blame for the accident. He hasn’t said it, but he doesn’t have to. I could see it all over his face when he found me on that gurney.

He was terrified, his eyes full of fear as he inspected my body, taking in every little cut and bruise. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s letting his past get to him.