Why Lie? (Love Riddles #2) by Carey Heywood

would take speaking to him so I’ve let my curiosity go unfulfilled.
    Trip hands me the book. It’s Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert. One time when he visited me, he saw me watching Eat, Pray, Love and recommended this book.
    “Thank you,” I murmur, setting it next to my smoothie, but outside of any danger of condensation.
    “How was your PT today?” he asks.
    I glare in response, making him laugh.
    “You’re going to chew me out for asking that once you’re able to, aren’t you?”
    Yes, I was. This morning in my physical therapy, I got to do hip thrusts. My left leg was in a sling so that the weight of my cast wasn’t an issue and so that I didn’t reinjure myself.
    My therapists were having a hell of a time coming up with exercises that wouldn’t mess with my other injuries. It’s not every day they have a patient with all my issues.
    This morning, the only other patient getting PT while I was, recently had a knee replacement. His surgery was way more recent than mine and he was already walking. Show off. I have an order in which my bones have to heal before I can do anything.
    Out of all my injuries, the breaks—plural—to my pelvic bone and my foot were the worst.
    Still, a lady a couple days ago got a hip replacement and she was walking too. Because my break was unstable, meaning there was more than one break, my healing is messier. That and the fact that I can’t bare weight on my left leg are the main things holding me back mobility wise.
    My skull, nose, jaw, rib, and arm breaks shockingly haven’t been that wretched in the grand scheme of things. Since everything hurts, it’s hard to pick out a spot that hurts more than another.
    My jaw is an annoyance but possibly a blessing because it’s seriously hampered any desire I’ve had to chew anyone out. My ankle and leg suck because I hate feeling trapped in this bed.
    “They’re releasing me tomorrow,” I murmur through my shut teeth.
    “That’s great news,” he replies.
    I nod, though it’s still up for debate where I’m going to go.
    “Hello, darling,” greets Gigi, beaming at me as she bustles into my room.
    “Oh hello, Brendan, Heathcliff.” She nods to each of them.
    My Gigi ignores nicknames.
    Trip stands, offering her his chair. “I should be going.”
    He looks down at me, a soft smile on his face. “Would it be okay if I checked in on you from time to time in Ferncliff?”
    I nod, surprised by his question.
    His small smile widens. “I’ll see you soon, Sydney.”
    I swear I can hear Heath rolling his eyes from the other side of my bed while Gigi sinks into the empty chair.
    She reaches out to rest her hand on my right calf. “Did you like the mango?”
    I’m over a mostly liquid diet but there’s no competition between what she makes versus what the hospital does, so I nod.
    “Heathcliff texted me to say you did great in your PT today. I’m so happy to hear that.”
    That was kind of him to do, annoying but kind. I meant to do it myself but forgot to. Texting one-handedly, I could do.
    “I’m going to take off,” Heath mutters, his chair squeaking as he stands.
    Then he does the thing that pisses me off, the thing that he’s done every single day since I woke up in this hospital. He leans over and kisses the top of my head.
    I close my eyes and don’t open them until I hear the door to my room close.
    “I take it you haven’t forgiven that boy.”
    Nope, not even close.
    Yes, he is probably the main reason I’m alive today. If he hadn’t of stayed with me and gotten help when he did, it’s uncertain what would have happened to me. Since I went into shock, the most likely outcome would have been death.
    That doesn’t mean I have to forgive him for anything that happened before the mudslide. I have thanked him for his part in saving my life. Now I can happily go on hating him. It’d be so much easier to do that if he’d leave me alone.
    What’s worse is Gigi and Pops are now his biggest fans. Pops even