Stolen Course (Wrecked and Ruined #2)(38)

“Hey.” I try to catch her attention. “You don’t have to be nervous. There is nothing you could say that would make me think less of you. I love you.” I try to encourage her, but she leans even farther away from me and begins knotting her fingers in her lap.

The doctor tries to prompt her. “Sarah?”

“I killed Manda,” she whispers. “I was driving that night, and I feel guilty that I lived and she didn’t.”

“You remember?” I ask, shocked.

“No.” She finally looks up at me. “I don’t remember. But based on the proof, I’ve accepted it. It doesn’t do me any good to play the what-if game. The only way I will ever truly move on is to own it and figure out how to get better.”

“That’s a really brave thing to say. I respect you for that,” I say, trying to let her know that I’m on her side.

She just laughs though. “I definitely don’t deserve respect.”

“Why do you say that, Sarah?” Dr. Clark cuts in.

“I just don’t.”

I look at him to see if he is going to push the subject, but he just nods and moves on.

“Why don’t you tell Emma what we talked about on Monday?” he says, causing Sarah to let out a groan.

“You have to know this therapy bullshit is driving me crazy.” She turns to look at me. “It’s like he has all the answers, but he still makes you guess before he gives them to you.”

I smile at her logic. I love these sarcastic flashes of my sister—my old sister.

She takes in a deep breath and very calmly, with no trace of sarcasm, bares her soul. “I have pushed everyone away for years because I don’t feel like I deserve anyone’s love after what I did. I still miss Manda every single day, and sometimes it’s crippling. It’s bad enough to know that I lost my best friend, but knowing that I had a role in her death slices me deep. I’ve wanted to escape that feeling for years, so I tried to kill myself. I just needed a way out of the pain.”

“Okay, I need to say something here. And I probably should just be listening but I need to say this for me.” I look at the doctor, but he doesn’t try to stop me. Turning back to Sarah, I rush out, “I’m sorry I left you to deal with all this on your own. I was terrified of losing you, and I know that is a shitty excuse, but I couldn’t stand by and watch you try to kill yourself. So I took the coward’s way out. I’m sorry. That’s what I feel guilty for.”

“I wouldn’t have let you help me even if you tried.” She finally reaches out to grab my hand.

I can’t hold myself back anymore. I dive across the chair and throw my arms around her neck. She’s stiff at first, obviously not having expected me to assault her with hugs, but a second later, she relaxes and wraps her arms around me too. We stay like that for a few minutes, both of us silently dripping tears and sniffling.

“I’ve missed you so much,” I say, and the moment is immediately ruined.

She goes stiff and awkwardly releases her hold on me. “I’m not who you miss,” she says with a cold chill to her voice.

The forgotten Dr. Clark speaks from across the room. “We didn’t get to this part, Sarah. Give her a break.”

“What did I say?” I frantically look back and forth between them.

“Go ahead. Tell her,” she says to the doctor.

“But then you wouldn’t have to guess.” He offers her a fake grin that has her rolling her eyes.

“I’m not the person you remember anymore. Shit changed after the accident. My ‘care team’”—she makes air quotes around the words—“says it’s because of my brain injury or whatever. But I’m not that woman anymore. It’s weird. It’s like I remember who I used to be, but I hate pretty much everything she used to love. Remember how much I used to read and write?”

“Of course. You were always such a geek when it came to books.” I laugh, but she doesn’t even smile.

“I hate them now,” she says matter-of-factly, like her sudden anti-reading status is going to run me off.

“Okay?”

“Oh and remember my obsession with cooking?”

“Yep,” I say, knowing where this is going.

“I would order takeout every day for the rest of my life if I could,” she says, and it once again makes me laugh. “What’s so funny?” she asks in a bitchy tone I definitely recognize.

“You!” I exclaim. “I’m not laughing at you per se, Sarah. I do, however, find it funny that you think your reading and cooking habits have any bearing whatsoever on how I feel about you.”

“Okay, let me interject here. I think Sarah might be not be explaining this very well,” Dr. Clark says, placing his notepad on the table beside him. “What she’s trying to say is she is not the same person you might remember. People who know her have expectations of who she is, but she feels that the person she is now will never be able to live up to those expectations. Is that accurate, Sarah?”

I look to her as she nods.

“She’s my sister!” I shriek at the doctor. He uses his pen to point over to Sarah, reminding me who I should be talking to. “You’re my sister!” I repeat to her.

“I’m not the person you remember though.”