PS… I still love you.

  I hit send without thinking as they close the cabin doors and I close my eyes, leaning back against the comfy seat.

  Twenty minutes pass by and I can’t figure out why the plane isn’t actually moving, we’re clearly delayed. I’m annoyed when the pilot comes out on the speaker. “Sorry folks, we just need an all clear from the mechanic and then we’ll be on our way.”

  Groans are heard all over.

  Great, I don’t die by bungee, but I’ll have a broken heart and then fall from a higher place in the sky—sounds about right.

  I hate flying too.

  Shit.

  I immediately grab my headphones so I can focus on something happier and put on some music from my phone.

  And why is it that the first song that comes on is Heartbroken by Diplo, perfect, great. I listen to it anyway, maybe I really do need to deep dive into sadness so I can feel better, though writing that note actually did feel like a deep exhale, even though she hasn’t read it yet.

  Which is weird because she’s been all over the texting and calling recently, then again she could be resting. Guilt attacks, she’s sick, the least I could do was listen to her for five minutes.

  But no, no, I refuse to justify anything.

  I’m where I need to be.

  I frown down at my phone like an idiot, then remember I put my phone in airplane mode after sending that last text. I quickly take it off and wait for my phone to buzz and buzz it does.

  With seventeen missed calls from Zane.

  Thirty text messages, the hell?

  Zane

  Bro, you need to get here now.

  Zane

  I’ll send a car.

  Zane

  Quinn, turn your damn phone on, the plane won’t crash if you turn it on for one second and if you’re in the air, you can use the texting.

  Zane

  You should be past ten thousand feet and be able to text, what the Hell? Quinn, talk to me.

  Zane

  Don’t make me do this.

  Zane

  Don’t ignore me.

  Zane

  Shit, this is serious, Quinn. Everyone in my house is okay.

  What about other houses? What the hell is going on?

  The pilot comes back on the speaker. “Folks, I’ve got some bad news, it looks like we’re going to need to deplane and get you on another flight, the mechanic doesn’t feel comfortable giving us the all clear. We’ll get you all taken care of, just be patient with our staff. On behalf of Delta Air Lines, we apologize for the inconvenience.”

  I groan and quickly read through the texts, only for a picture to pop up on the last desperate attempt.

  It’s a hospital bed.

  It’s Chloe hooked up to several machines—and she’s wearing my bracelet. The one I left with the card.

  “FUCK!” I scream and jump to my feet, hitting my head on the ceiling. Pain hits but I don’t really care, I’ll be numb soon. Because Chloe.

  “Sir!” The flight attendant comes over to me. “You need to calm down, we’ll all get off the plane and get you booked on a different flight, okay?” My heart’s racing, I feel like I’m going to puke. “Sir? I need you to take your seat before I can open the cabin back up, all right? Sir? Sir?”

  I sway and collapse into my seat while she goes over to the door and gets the clear to open it, and the minute she does, I grab my shit, shove past everyone and run.

  I’m running while fumbling with my bag and my phone, I finally stop once I’m outside baggage claim and out of breath and call Zane.

  He answers on the first ring. “Quinn!”

  “The plane, bad plane, mechanics, what’s going on?”

  “So you’re off the plane?”

  “Yes, I’m off the plane. Now what the hell is going on? Why is she in the hospital?”

  “She um, was without air for quite a while, they had to resuscitate her, I won’t give you any more details until you get your ass back here.”

  “But she’s alive?”

  He’s quiet for a few seconds than curses. “She’s in a coma, man. And her sister is not okay, she’s freaking out, I know you’ve had a falling out with them, but you’re close with her.”

  “You think I’m close with her?” No, I’m angry so fucking angry at her. It should have been Sophie, not Chloe.

  “You did sleep with her.”

  “Yeah, look how that turned out.” I nearly throw my phone.

  “Quinn, I’m serious, you need to come. I sent a car and told them to park until you came back, even if it meant waiting for your next flight, this is serious.”

  Tears run down my cheeks.

  I’m finally crying.

  I can’t see the world in front of me.

  I thought her betrayal and lies would shatter me forever—and now I know—it’s the loss of her and my own pride that finally did it.

  “Um…” I’m choking on my own tears. “Where’s the car at, and where… where…” I start to hyperventilate.

  “Quinn.” Zane snaps. “Get it together, I know this is a shock, but you have around a thirty-minute drive to the hospital.”

  “What?”

  “They um, they had to life flight her, that’s all I know, I asked for updates from, well from you know, and this was the last picture she sent. I need you to keep your shit together and be strong, okay? None of this betrayal bullshit, this is bigger than that.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” I wipe my hand down my face. “Where’s the fucking car?”

  He sighs. “Just run out of baggage claim, he should be waiting for you with a sign, he texted while we were on the phone that he was already there, so good timing.”

  Sure, yeah, good timing.

  “I’ll um—” I can’t breathe. “I’ll call you once I’m there.”

  “Quinn,” Zane breathes out a curse. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.”

  “Yeah.” I swallow the lump that will forever take residence in my throat. “Me too.”

  When I manage to get outside of baggage claim, I see a man holding an iPad with Quinn scribbled across it.

  I don’t even care that I look like I’ve been crying. I walk toward him and bark out. “I’m ready.”

  But I’m not.

  I’m not ready for this, for any of this.

  The car ride feels like it takes forever. I barely remember getting into it, and when I do, I stare down at my phone in my hand, at the unread note I sent her where I said I loved her still.

  When I was writing that—she was already in a coma.

  She never got to see or hear my soul.

  And now she might never hear the words.

  I open the note and re-read it, then whisper the ending into the universe, “PS. I still love you.”

  Even though you’re gone…

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Quinn

  The car pulls up to the hospital. I don’t even say thank you, I just shoot Zane a text and ask for the room number.

  He texts back immediately.

  Zane

  Room 3038, they’re expecting you so you can go right up, ask for directions to ICU.

  ICU.

  Tears burn the back of my eyes. People wake up from coma’s all the time, right? I almost asked what actually happened but I’m assuming it’s part of her Lupus, I was too afraid to look it up on my phone and have it be right or hear bad news.

  My only focus is to make sure I can hold her hand, even if she can’t hold it back. I walk slowly into the gift shop and grab flowers. She can’t smell or see, but I grab them anyway along with a small white bear that says get better.

  What a joke.

  But it’s something.

  It’s all I can do.

  I’m helpless, powerless. My chest feels like it’s cracking over and over again as I make my purchase and walk over to the elevators. ICU is on the third floor. I grab my lame gifts and slowly walk into the elevator and hit number five.

  My head is starting to pound from the crying.

  My hands shake as the smell of hospital fills the air. Like medicine and bleach, like sickness and death.

  The doors slowly open, I walk past the nurses’ station and look at the numbers on the doors. I’m not ready for this. I’m not.

  I stop in front of her door and slowly let myself in.

  The door pushes open. A nurse is checking her vitals. “Oh, you just missed her sister, she should be back soon, visiting hours are almost over.”

  “Yeah.” My voice cracks. “Is there a waiting room I can go to once they’re over?”

  “When you’re done visiting, I’ll show you, all right?”

  I nod. “Is she making any progress?”

  The nurse’s face falls. “She’s stable.”

  That’s like saying she’s in a vegetative state. A way for them to make you feel better because hey she could be dead—she may as well be.

  The nurse walks by me and clicks the door shut, so many machines are plugged in around her. Nobody told me about the bruising on her arms and face, was that normal too?

  I set the bear and flowers down on the table and pull up a chair next to the bed, and reach for her hand. I squeeze it and look for the bracelet but it’s not there, they probably took it off of her. I look over at the nightstand and sure enough, it’s right there with a picture of her and Sophie.

  Damn it!

  “I’m so sorry,” I rasp. “So fucking sorry.”

  Maybe if I would have stayed I could have prevented this, if I would have listened, was it my fault her condition declined?

  Tears stream down my cheeks. “I love you, Chloe. I was just upset, I felt betrayed, I never told you my story but maybe I’ll tell you now, I heard people can still hear in comas, but I have no clue if it’s true. When Ambrose and I were in high school, we had this girl we were both obsessed with, we later found out she was basically pinning us against each other and then admitted it one day. We were competitive, and each of us were just horny idiots. One night at a party, she said she wanted—us both. And we were so damn young and stupid we agreed and furthermore took drinks from her, we later found out she’d drugged us, her whole fantasy was for me and Ambrose to hook up with each other and with her, she made us do some really messed up things, but our inhibitions were gone and on top of that, she took pictures while we were unconscious, touched us—“ I shudder. “—then she used them as a way to threaten us if we ever said anything. In order to protect my best friend, I pulled her away from him, purposefully making it seem like I wanted her when really I was trying to take the fall for him. Our fathers at the time ended up finding out, we sued her, she left, only later we found out she was pregnant and lost the baby, we still don’t know who’s it was since both of us had been with her. I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this, except, I know what it’s like to be on both ends of betrayal—it took a while for me and Ambrose to make up only for me to fall for the girl he’s now engaged to. In both scenarios I thought I was in love, in the last one, I knew she was his, not mine, so when I came to Seaside I was like man, finally. Finally, someone who gets me. I don’t give a fuck if you’re sick, I want to hold your hair when you puke, I want to hold your hand when you’re scared, and I want to carry you when you can’t carry yourself. You think I cared that you were sick? That’s complete bullshit. When you love someone, you love every broken part of them, you don’t get to choose and the idiots that do just give us all a bad name. Love is when you accept no matter what, even if it doesn’t benefit you—you love people where they’re at and you hold their hands if they stand still, stumble backward, or move forward. Love isn’t defined by how healthy you are or what you can give me. Love is defined by all those beautiful, tiny, wonderful moments were given. I guess I just wanted you to know that.” I get up and lower her hand back down. “I brought you a bear and flowers, stupid, I know, but I wanted to do something other than just wish you would open your eyes.”

  I turn around and see Sophie.

  Wait.

  I look closer. “Sophie?”

  “Do you mean that?” she asks, taking a step forward, she looks really pale, then again her twin’s in a coma. “What you just said? Do you mean it?”

  I can’t speak.

  Why does she sound so much like Chloe? I’m hallucinating and it’s not fair, the universe is a cruel, horrible place.

  Tears slide down my cheeks.

  And then she’s in my arms. “Did you?”

  I want to shove her away but I need the comfort and I know she does too, slowly I lower my chin to her head and sniff.

  What? Now I’m even smelling her perfume.

  She starts sobbing against my chest. “I’m sorry Sophie.”

  She tenses in my arms and pulls back. “Sophie?”

  My eyes search hers, then widen. “Chloe?”

  She nods her head. “Sophie’s the one that got in the accident.”

  I collapse against her sobbing.

  She holds me tight in her arms. “Did you think? Wait, you thought I was the one in the coma?”

  “Fuck that hurt.” I cling to her so hard that it’s borderline embarrassing. “I thought I lost you. I thought I’d never—“

  “—Shhh, Quinn, I’m so sorry I thought Zane explained everything. I left my phone back at the house after he took me to the hospital. I’m so sorry!”

  “Shit.” I pull back and press a kiss to her mouth and then her forehead, her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry too.” Her smile’s sad.

  “We should talk.” I finally get out.

  She nods. “But not here.”

  A knock sounds at the door, the nurse pokes her head in. “Visiting hours are over.”

  Chloe nods and grabs my hand. “I have a hotel across the street, you can stay with me.”

  I walk out of that hospital room both relieved and sad, because there’s still someone in a coma and no matter how badly she treated me—that’s still tragic and it’s still Chloe’s twin.

  I squeeze her hand and whisper words I’m not sure I believe, “It’s going to be okay.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chloe

  I can’t believe Quinn actually thought I was the one that was dead, I mean that could easily be my future, should I even get involved with him being as sick as I am? I quickly shove the thoughts away because after that speech, how dare I even think that.

  His emotions, his truth bled all over that room, it was beautifully tragic. We walk in silence across the street and into Hotel 47, a small boutique hotel, they only had one room left, and it was a suite. Zane paid for it and told me to stop talking.

  He wasn’t even my family, but Quinn’s.

  I barely knew him, but my parents still weren’t here yet, their flight got delayed with some plane mechanical issue thing at Portland airport so they couldn’t make their connection.

  I was completely and utterly alone.

  But now, I had Quinn.

  I think Zane knew I was barely holding it together. We walked to the elevator and went up to the room. It was spacious and modern, with two bathrooms, a large king room, and a second room with a queen bed. Both rooms were themed, one was all modern art and bright colors, down to the purple down comforter, the other smaller room was more elegant with golds, whites, and blacks, and the main living room and kitchen area were like a joint mash up of both, but it worked.

  Quinn walked straight into the king bedroom I’d been sleeping in and laid facedown on the bed with a grunt.

  I came over and sat next to him.

  His voice was muffled against the comforter. “Start at the beginning, what happened with Sophie, the truth, then tell me what happened when I left and how we went from Seaside to being airlifted to a hospital.”

  “She’s um…” I get up and walk over to the mini fridge in the king room, grab a water, then grab him a few mini bottles of tequila and hand them to him.

  He looks up. “Why is everyone trying to get me drunk with tequila these days?”

  “Huh?” I open my water.

  He shakes his head. “Long story of rockstars with good intentions and me puking my guts out only to wake up to a little boy and girl putting stickers on my face.”

  “What?”

  “Zane’s kids, again long story, I stayed at his place, and he got me drunk or I got me drunk and his kids have loads of energy.”

  “Gotcha.” I nod. “And did the drunkenness help?”

  “Ask the toilet, I dropped all my secrets there.” He groaned and flipped onto his back, opened up one shot, downed it, stared up and the ceiling. “So?”

  “When I found out what she did, which yes was that next morning, I was going to tell you. I was embarrassed, and I didn’t want to scare you away, and on top of that, after you left, she threatened to tell you about my illness if I told you it was her, not me. Ever since I was diagnosed, she’s been on this rampage, slowly getting more and more mean. She’s basically stolen all my friends, the only boyfriends I’ve had left when it was too “hard” to deal with my being sick all the time. The amount of times I was told to just get better is outrageous.”

  Quinn snorts out a disgusted laugh. “Wow, just get better? Like it’s that easy? You aren’t Harry Potter, you can’t just magic spell yourself into health.”

  He was always a good one. I was just too afraid to believe it. “I know that, and it helps that you do too.”

  He turns on his side. “What do you take me for? Seriously. I’m not a monster, you heard what—“

  “—What you said in the hospital was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard spoken out loud, the best sort of confession.”

  Quinn’s blue eyes soften, his hair’s coming out of the bun he always has it in, his sharp jaw clenches. I want to kiss him so badly. I want him to hold me even more. “I meant every word.”

  A tear slides down my cheek, he catches it with his finger and wraps his hand around my neck and pulls my mouth down to his. I don’t think I realize how much I need his touch until I’m finally in his arms, more tears stream down my face colliding with our fused mouths. He pulls me onto him, then tears his mouth away and holds me tight. I rest my head against his chest. “I know we have more to talk about, more to work through, thank you for telling me.”