Chapter 3 “Who are you?”
The past few days blurred into each other, hours melting into nights and nights into mornings until time itself stopped making sense.
All I knew was the hospital.
The doctor had said Tobias’ case was critical. His bike had collided headfirst with a car, and he hadn’t been wearing a helmet. The impact had been severe. It affected his brain the most, they said. Words that sounded clinical, detached, like they didn’t fully capture the weight of what they meant.
He had been in a coma for three days.
Three long, suffocating days with no response.
The whole town heard about it. Of course they did. Tobias Thomas wasn’t just anyone. He was the Tobias Thomas, Clever High’s golden boy, the pride of the town, the quarterback everyone adored.
People came in waves.
Students. Teachers. Families. People I didn’t even recognize.
They brought flowers, cards, gifts, things that filled the hospital with color and life that felt almost offensive against the stillness of his condition. They stood in corners, whispered prayers, cried quietly, and rallied around him like their collective hope could pull him back.
And through it all… I stayed hidden.
I couldn’t be seen.
Not like this.
Not as his
So I learned the corners of that hospital better than anyone else. The quiet hallways, the empty waiting rooms, the spots behind pillars where I could sit and pretend I didn’t exist. I waited for Elizabeth, his mother, to call me, to tell me when it was safe to come in, when the crowd had thinned enough that I wouldn’t be questioned.
Watching him through the glass broke something in me every single time.
He looked… wrong. Quiet and broken.
Wires ran from his body in every direction, machines blinking and beeping softly like they were the only proof he was still here. His chest rose and fell, but even that felt mechanical, and distant.
My fear spiked the day his father asked the doctor if he would be able to play again.
I stood farther back, hidden, my breath caught somewhere in my throat as I listened.
The doctor said there was no real damage done to his legs.
That physically, he should be able to play again.
But nothing was certain.
We would have to wait.
That was a week ago.
I hadn’t gone home.
Not really.
Not with Frank-- my stepbrother, there, hovering around me. Not with my uncle pretending not to see the way he treated me, pretending not to see the abuse.
So I stayed here.
Bella had been a blessing. She brought me clothes, food, things I barely touched but accepted anyway because it was something… because it meant someone cared enough to try.
My friends came too.
They found me in the waiting areas sometimes, sitting quietly, my hands folded tightly in my lap. They talked about Tobias, about how unfair it all was, about how he had a game that night, about how the whole school was praying for him.
And I nodded.
I agreed.
I pretended.
I feigned ignorance so well it scared me.
Because none of them knew just how deeply we felt for each other.
—
The morning he woke up didn’t feel different.
Not at first.
It was just another heavy day, another stretch of waiting that felt endless, until suddenly, everything shifted.
Voices picked up.
Footsteps quickened.
And then—
“He’s awake.”
The words spread fast, like fire catching onto dry grass.
My heart slammed violently against my chest as I stood up so quickly my chair scraped loudly against the floor. My hands trembled at my sides, my entire body buzzing with something too big to contain.
Tobias is awake.
The doctor explained that he needed to be visited one person at a time, that he shouldn’t be overwhelmed.
I didn’t argue.
I couldn’t.
I turned immediately to his parents, forcing a smile through the tears already building in my eyes.
“You should go first,” I said quickly, my voice shaky but eager. “Please… go.”
I could wait.
I would wait.
As long as he was awake.
As long as he was here.
They didn’t hesitate.
They went in, and the door closed behind them.
And I stood there.
Waiting.
My heart raced uncontrollably, my hands twisting together as I paced the small space, my mind already running ahead of me.
He was awake.
I was going to see him.
I was going to hug him, to hold him, to tell him how sorry I was for missing his calls, to tell him—
Time stretched.
Every second felt like a minute.
Every minute like an hour.
By the time the door finally opened again, it felt like I had been standing there forever.
I turned immediately.
Elizabeth stepped out first.
She was crying.
Softly, her body leaning into her husband’s as he held her close.
My smile faltered.
Something inside me shifted.
Her husband, Stefan, looked at me then.
“He will want to see you now.”
I straightened instantly, my feet already moving before I could fully process his words.
“Is he really okay?” I asked quickly, my voice filled with fragile hope as I rushed toward them.
At the question, Elizabeth broke down harder.
The sound of her crying deepened, her grip tightening on her husband.
Confusion flickered through me.
Stefan only gave me a small, sad smile.
“Go see him, dear.”
Something about the way he said it didn’t sit right.
But I didn’t let myself dwell on it.
I couldn’t.
Not when I was about to see him.
So I pushed the unease aside, telling myself it was just tears of relief, just overwhelming emotions, and I walked toward the door.
The room Tobias was kept in was one of the VIP rooms.
Stepping into it felt less like entering a hospital and more like walking into a quiet, expensive hotel suite. It was spacious, neat, almost too perfect for the situation it held.
And there he was.
Lying on the bed.
His head turned toward the window.
A sob rattled through my chest, sharp and sudden, the sight of him hitting me all over again. The urge to break down right there clawed at me, but I swallowed it, wiping quickly at my eyes.
Not now.
He needed me strong.
My fingers trembled as I smoothed down my dress, fixing my hair, forcing a wide smile onto my face before I began walking toward him.
“Tob?” I called gently.
No response.
No movement.
Then I remembered what the doctor had said.
His hearing might be delayed.
I needed to be louder.
I stepped closer, more cautious now, my heart beating unevenly.
“Tob?”
There was a slight jerk.
Just barely noticeable.
And then, He turned.
The moment our eyes met, everything inside me broke.
Tears spilled over instantly as I covered my mouth with my hand, a small, choked sound escaping me as I moved closer, slower now, like I was afraid he might disappear if I rushed.
I sat carefully on the edge of the bed.
“H-Hi,” I whispered, my voice trembling.
He just… stared blankly.
His eyes moved over my face, but there was nothing in them. No recognition. No warmth.
But it didn’t matter.
He was alive.
He was here.
“Are you okay?” I asked softly, my hands gripping the edge of the bed to stop myself from reaching for him. I wanted to touch him so badly it hurt, but I held back.
I had to be careful.
He didn’t respond.
His gaze continued to move across my face.
A small knot of worry tightened in my chest.
“Look…” I said, forcing a lightness into my voice that I didn’t feel. I stood up slightly, giving a small twirl. “I’m wearing your favorite dress.”
I tried to smile wider.
“You once told me I looked like a mini doll,” I continued, “One you could just squeeze and put into your pocket so I’ll always be with you.” I paused, my chest tightening. “Do I still look like that?”
Nothing.
No reaction.
The silence stretched too long.
Too heavy.
The worry in my chest deepened, pressing harder now.
The doctor had said recovery would be slow.
But he hadn’t said—
He hadn’t said whatever this was.
The smile slipped from my face.
Slowly, I moved closer again, my composure cracking.
“I’m sorry I didn’t pick your call,” I said, my voice breaking as tears slipped free again. “I kept it on silence in my bag, and I was too busy with orders to check. I know I always have excuses, but I promise it wasn’t intentional. I just—”
“Who are you?”
