Chapter 47

Alexandria

Two weeks ago, I opened my eyes to a world I didn't fully remember. The days since have been a strange mix of clarity and haze—like flipping through a book where some of the pages are smudged, others torn out completely.

Today, I'm going home.

The nurse gently wheels me toward the hospital exit, even though I insisted I could use the crutches. They wanted me to save my energy. I glance down at the thick white cast wrapped around my left leg, the signatures from family and friends scrawled across it like a timeline of survival. I still have three more weeks with this thing but I'm here. I made it. That fact still feels unreal.

Outside the hospital doors, my people wait.

Macklin is at the front, a duffel bag slung over one shoulder, his arms full of my stuff—blankets, my favorite hoodie, my hospital water bottle. His eyes catch mine and immediately soften. He walks toward me as the nurse parks my wheelchair near the curb. I barely have time to breathe before he's crouching beside me, brushing a piece of hair behind my ear.

"Hey," he says softly.

"Hey," I whisper, my throat tightening at the sight of him. I still don't know how to explain what it's meant to have him here every day, even when I couldn't respond, couldn't speak, couldn't even open my eyes. I don't remember the accident—but I remember Macklin. His voice. His hand holding mine. The song.

Behind him, I see Will and Gabi. Will is pacing a little, probably too anxious to stand still. Gabi gives me a teary smile, wiping at her eyes before waving with both hands like a dork. I love her for that. For keeping things light even when everything felt unbearably heavy.

A few feet away, my parents stand next to Mr. and Mrs. Smith. All of them have their arms crossed, the shared posture of relief and fatigue. They're leaving tonight, but they promised they wouldn't fly out until they saw me safe and settled at home.

Home.

"Ready to try the crutches again?" the nurse asks with a smile.

"As I'll ever be," I mutter, and Macklin instantly sets down the bags to help me up. He moves slowly, like he's afraid I'll shatter again.

My arms shake as I shift from the chair to my crutches. Every motion is a reminder of the healing still ahead. Macklin hovers at my side, not touching but close enough to catch me if I slip. His presence steadies me more than the crutches ever could.

The moment I'm upright, everyone starts moving.

Will jogs over and grabs the bags Macklin dropped, throwing one over his shoulder with ease. "She's upright, folks. She's good," he jokes, but his voice cracks a little at the end.

Gabi practically skips over, clapping her hands. "You're glowing, Lex. It's hot."

I snort, the laugh hurting just a little. "Thanks, I think?"

"I'm serious," she says, elbowing Will. "Right Will?"

"You look like someone who needs to sit down before she falls," Will deadpans, and I roll my eyes.

Macklin steps in. "You look beautiful," he says quietly.

My parents approach next, both trying to hold it together. My mom has cried more in the last two weeks than I've seen in my entire life. My dad, ever the quiet one, just presses his lips into a thin line and gently cups the back of my head like he used to since I was little.

"Take it slow," dad says.

"We'll be right behind you," my mom adds, her voice thick with emotion.

Mr. and Mrs. Smith each offer hugs and warm smiles, and it's a comfort I didn't realize I needed. They stayed here through all of it, right alongside my parents. Mr. Smith even helped assemble the shower chair in my apartment for when I'd come home. I owe them more than I can ever repay.

—

Back at the apartment, it feels strange to be home. Familiar, yet different. Everything looks exactly the same as when I left it, but I don't feel the same. There's a stillness in the air, like the apartment held its breath waiting for me to come back.

Gabi opens the door for me and starts fluffing the throw pillows, like the couch suddenly became a throne. "Okay, queen of recovery, your seat awaits!"

Will helps me onto the couch gently, adjusting the leg rest with a cushion under my cast.

"You guys really didn't have to clean this much," I murmur.

"We didn't," Will replies. "But Gabs went full nesting mode. She even bought scented candles. Like Lex is gonna wake up from a coma and care that her room smells like vanilla patchouli."

Gabi smacks his arm. "It's 'linen and lavender,' actually, Lex's favorite."

I laugh again, weaker this time, but it feels good.

Macklin disappears into the kitchen and comes back with my favorite tea in the mug I always use. He even remembered the lemon and honey. "Here," he says, kneeling to hand it to me. "Sip slow."

"You're spoiling me," I mumble, but take it gratefully.

"No such thing," he says.

My parents and Will's head into the kitchen to prep some food for later, giving us a few minutes to breathe. Macklin sits beside me on the couch, close but still careful. Like he's afraid one wrong move will undo the healing.

I glance at him. "You okay?"

His smile widened while chuckling. "You're asking me?"

"I'm not the only one who's been through hell," I say softly.

He doesn't answer right away. Just stares at my hand, the one he held every day while I slept. Finally, he says, "I dreamed you were trying to leave. That I couldn't catch up. Then, I woke up and you moved your fingers."

I blink at him, trying to imagine how terrifying that must've felt. "I'm here now."

"You are," he whispers. "And I'm never letting you go again."

My heart aches in the best way. I don't know what will happen tomorrow but currently and in this moment, I'm surrounded by the people I love, I feel okay.

Everyone seemed relaxed. It was the first day that felt like it had a little bit of normal in it. Then, my mom gave me a look.

It wasn't the normal "you doing okay?" kind of look. It was something heavier—more serious. I knew what was coming before she even opened her mouth.

"Lex," she said gently, sitting forward. "We've been waiting until you were fully cleared by the hospital... but I know you've been wondering about what really happened."

My stomach twisted. I had a vague idea. Bits and pieces. But nothing concrete. It was like someone had pulled a curtain over that entire day. I only remembered looking in the car mirror and then... waking up with wires hooked up to me.

I nodded slowly. "Yeah... I do want to know."

Dad glanced at Mom, then at me. "Are you sure, sweetheart?"

I looked between them both and then at Macklin, whose eyes held so much concern, it almost made me cry. I turned back to my parents. "Positive."

There was a silence before Dad spoke.

"The man who hit you... was intoxicated. Day drinking. He had already been in another accident that morning, a hit and run. He fled the scene and the police were already after him when he ran a red light."

Mom's hand found mine. "It was a red light, you were minding your business and you weren't at fault. He was speeding, trying to escape. Instead of pressing the brake, he hit the gas and—"

"He slammed into you," Dad finished, his voice lower now. "Both cars were totaled. The impact was brutal. The man died at the scene."

I tried to breathe normally, but the weight of the words hit like a second crash. I wasn't expecting the swirl of emotions: relief, anger, guilt. Mostly guilt.

"I was in Gabi's car," I said softly, staring at the carpet. "She let me borrow it..."

Before I could spiral, Gabi's voice cut in, firm and warm. "Lex, I don't give a damn about that car."

I blinked up at her.

"I don't care if my car gets smooshed a hundred times. It's a car. You're... you. I wouldn't care if I had to bike across San Jose for the next year as long as you're here and alive and healthy."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Please, don't ever say that again," she said, kneeling beside me and squeezing my knee gently. "None of it matters as long as we still got you."

That's when my mom stood and gestured toward my bedroom. "Can I talk to you alone for a minute?"

I nodded, my heart still full from Gabi's words.

Macklin helped me stand, careful with my crutches and the way I balanced on one foot, and then kissed my forehead before I slowly followed my mom down the hallway.

She sat on my bed, patting the space next to her. I shuffled over, careful with my cast as I propped my crutches beside me.

"You okay with everything you heard?" she asked gently.

I nodded. "Yeah. I mean... I'm not okay-okay. But I needed to know. And I'm glad you waited until now."

She smiled sadly and reached to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear like she used to when I was little. "There's one more thing I wanted to talk about. Something important."

I looked at her, expecting something heavy again, but instead her face softened.

"Macklin," she said quietly.

My lips twitched into a small smile. "What about him?"

"I love that boy," she said, laughing quietly. "Lex, I've never seen someone so in love and not just with how he looks at you but how he's cared for you."

I felt my cheeks warm. "We've only been together a few months."

My mom nodded, eyes thoughtful. "That may be true but some people take years to develop that kind of devotion and others? They just... know."

I didn't know what to say to that. My eyes dropped to my hands, fiddling with the edge of my sleeve.

"Do you know what he did the first night we arrived at the hospital?" she asked softly.

I glanced at her, curious.

"He stood up, red-eyed, exhausted, and said, 'I hope it's okay I stayed overnight. I just wanted to be here when she woke up.' He brought flowers and food for everyone. He never left your side."

My throat tightened. "He told me some of that. I... I think I heard him, even in the coma. I don't remember it clearly but—somehow, I felt it."

Mom's eyes shimmered. "That love, Lex—the one you both carry in your eyes? That kind lasts a lifetime."

I blinked quickly, trying not to cry. "It's scary. How fast it's all felt. But it's also the only thing that made me feel safe. Even in that hospital bed."

She wrapped her arms around me, holding me tightly. "Then hold on to it. Don't question it too much. When something good shows up in your life like that don't push it away just because it all seems a little scary or even if you're still in school and you both carry important careers."

I nodded into her shoulder, tears pricking at the edges of my lashes.

After a long moment, she pulled back and smiled. "Okay. That's all I wanted to say. Let's go rejoin the chaos."

We walked slowly back into the living room—me wobbling slightly with the crutches, her staying close like she had my whole life. Everyone turned toward us when we entered, and Macklin immediately stood to help me back to the couch, his hand resting at the small of my back to support me.

"You okay?" he whispered, low enough so only I could hear.

"Yeah," I said softly, meeting his eyes. "I'm okay now." And for the first time since the accident, I really meant it.

———

The city was just starting to cool down from the day, but a soft warmth still clung to the air. I could hear the steady hum of suitcase wheels and short goodbyes all around us as people spilled out onto the sidewalk, hugging and waving at loved ones goodbye.

Our car rolled to a soft stop at the curb, and I braced my crutches against the seat in front of me, heart climbing into my throat.

This was it. Time to say goodbye.

I knew this part was coming— my parents, and Will's parents, flying back home to Massachusetts after staying with us in San Jose for the last couple of weeks. They'd been here every day since the accident. Every hour I was unconscious, and every exhausting, quiet moment after I woke up. And now, they were headed home... while I stayed behind.

The back hatch of the car opened with a soft click. I looked over to see Macklin already out of the passenger seat, grabbing bags and setting them gently onto the sidewalk. Will was helping his dad unload a suitcase, and Gabi was stretching from the cramped ride, her hair messy from the open windows we'd cracked on the way over.

Macklin opened my door next.

"You okay?" he asked, voice low and gentle.

I nodded. "Yeah. Just... nervous, I guess."

He reached in and helped me out of the car, one arm supporting me while I got balanced on the crutches. He just stayed beside me, steady like he always was.

My mom turned around the moment I stood upright, a smile blooming on her face despite the glassiness in her eyes. My dad stood a few feet away, trying to look calm and composed but clearly struggling not to tear up.

"Sweetheart," my mom said softly, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around me. Her grip was warm and comforting, like it always had been. "I still don't like the idea of leaving you."

"You're not leaving me," I murmured. "I'll call every week. I'm okay now and I've got a full support system sticking by me."

I gestured weakly toward Macklin, Will, and Gabi. Gabi gave a small wave, and Will gave an exaggerated thumbs-up.

"We'll take care of her," Gabi promised.

My mom smiled, pulling back just enough to brush a stray piece of hair behind my ear. "I know you will but you're still my baby, Lex."

"I know," I whispered.

Then came my dad, pulling me into a long hug with one arm. His other hand gently patted the back of my head.

"I'm so proud of you," he said into my hair. "You scared the hell out of us... but you're here. You're still fighting. That's all that matters."

"Thanks, Dad." My throat tightened. "I'm sorry you had to drop everything and come all the way out here."

"We'd do it a hundred times over," he said firmly.

I nodded against his chest, and when I stepped back, I could see the emotion written all over his face. He wasn't good at goodbyes either.

Mrs. Smith stepped forward next, reaching out and giving my hand a warm squeeze before pulling me in for a hug.

"You are family to us, Lex," she said. "You've always been. I hope you know that."

"I do," I whispered. "Thank you. For everything."

Mr. Smith gave me a gentler, quieter hug than usual. His hand lingered on my shoulder for a second before he said, "Next time we're all together, it better be for a graduation or a wedding. No more hospitals, okay?"

I managed a laugh through the tears. "Deal."

The six of us gathered in a loose, small circle near the car. There was something about saying goodbye at an airport that always felt more final than it should but I guess that's what made it sink in. My family, who had dropped everything for me after the accident, was headed back to Massachusetts and I'd be here rebuilding normal.

"Make sure she eats real food," my mom told Macklin, half-serious, half-teasing.

"She does," he assured her with a soft smile. "Mostly."

"And don't let her push herself too hard," my dad added. "She thinks she's indestructible."

"I'll make sure she rests," Macklin promised.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm right here, you know."

"We know," my mom said with a small laugh. "But we're parents. Worrying is our full-time job."

Will stepped in then, scooping his mom into a hug, then doing the same with my mom. There were a lot of hugs, actually, Gabi to my mom, Will to my dad, everyone saying something kind and soft before they gathered their things and headed for the terminal entrance.

Just before walking away, my mom turned back around and came to me again.

"I'm proud of you, Lex. You're strong. And you're not alone. Call us for anything, okay? No matter what."

"I will," I said.

She reached up and kissed my forehead. "We love you."

"I love you guys too."

With one last smile, she turned to follow my dad through the sliding doors.

Mrs. Smith looked back once, gave a little wave, and then they were gone.

I stood there quietly for a second, the cool breeze curling around my arms and my crutches digging a little into my sides.

"You good?" Macklin asked gently, stepping close.

"Yeah," I said. "Just... weird. Them leaving, I mean."

"I get that."

"I'm glad you're here with me though."

He smiled softly and said, "You're stuck with me."

Will came over and clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Alright, drama queen, let's get you home before Gabi starts crying again."

"Hey!" Gabi protested, sniffling into her sleeve. "They're happy tears!" We all laughed, and I let myself lean into the comfort of them.