“Perfect incision.”

“I agree. She’ll barely be able to see the scar once her hair grows back over it.”

“Skin and muscles are moved back nicely. Clip it. I’m almost ready for the drill.”

It’s too quiet.

If someone were whispering in the room right now, everyone would hear it.

We’re united in our misery of waiting. Everything is so damn slow. I don’t know how I imagined it would be otherwise. Every time footsteps pass in front of our door, I suck in a deep breath, hoping it will be news.

I’m reliving every moment I’ve spent with Corinna. In my heart, I’m feeling her pain. Where she’s bleeding from her head, I’m bleeding in my heart. I despise myself for not forcing our issues sooner, for every ounce of pain I caused her. For the stupid choices I made for her instead of giving her.

Scrubbing my hands over my face, I let out a harsh sigh. Did I do enough to let her know I’m irrevocably in love with her? Does she feel that in the darkness she’s surrounded by?

A gentle hand lands on my shoulder. “She knows, Colby.” Holly sits down next to me. “Stop tormenting yourself.”

“How can you know? Everything I did for years was wrong. I let her go when I should have held her close. What if I was supposed to stand by her side now? She hates the dark.” I swear viciously.

Ali drops into the chair on the other side of me. “I held her hand for a month in the darkest, nastiest conditions you can imagine, Colby. We weren’t living in filth by the time they let us out of the shipping container—we were filth. Remember, Holly? We’d barely been hosed off once a week from that old garden hose going full blast.”

Holly shudders. “I still can’t stand cold water to this day.”

Ali nods adamantly. “Right? I had to move. I just couldn’t sit still. A lot of days I still feel that way. Cori needed to be in the light, but Colby? We all survived without it. All of us. In comparison to that darkness, she’s got this beat.” Ali squeezes my arm. “Try to focus on all the ways she’s going to make you wait on her after instead.”

Horror washes over me. “Oh God. She’s going to be a nightmare.”

Holly gives me a quick grin. “That’s the spirit.”

“Who wants to take bets that she asks for a bell as a get-well gift?” Ali says dryly.

Before I can respond with threats of bodily harm to the sibling who buys it for her, the alarm on my cell phone goes off.

“She has a fucking sixth sense about gossip. I swear, it’s uncanny.” Ali’s voice is filled with mirth.

I look down. 8:50 AM. Purple bag. Ziploc 2. Then you have something to read and listen to. Love, Corinna

I grab the purple bag from under the table. Rooting around in it, I find the bag with a big 2 marked on it. “Corinna mail!” I call to the room at large.

“Let’s wait and open them up together,” Phil suggests.

“I love that idea,” Em agrees.

When everyone has their envelopes, we all tear into them and find sloth cards. Cassidy points at Phil and says, “She must have been thinking of you, brother.”

Phil sticks his tongue out at Cassidy. “Very funny.” He flips open his card and bursts out laughing. “Oh my God.” Pulling out a sloth on a stick with Corinna’s face superimposed on it, he dances it around.

“Did y’all really think today was going to move any faster than normal? It’s me after all. Love, Corinna,” Holly reads aloud.

Everyone bursts into hysterical laughter.

“Priceless,” Em declares. She’s bouncing her Corinna-on-a-stick around and cracking up.

Ali’s using hers to fling an envelope spitball at Keene. “Hey, it’s not pie, but it works,” she says cheekily.

“Knock it off, Alison.” Keene shakes his head, but the wide grin on his face belies his reprimand as he uses his Corinna to bat away the spitball.

Before these cards, our energy was like that of sloths themselves. Short of hanging upside down, the mood in the room was low, so low. Bryan told us these would be the toughest hours with little to no information from the operating room. Seeing the energy filling the room, I take a minute to reach for Corinna’s words.

The minute I touch the journal, I feel peace within the newly launched chaos. I untie the string and find where I last left off.

Hello, my love.

I’m okay. I know they’re taking good care of me. I’m worried about you though.

I’m sorry. I just don’t know if I should be apologizing for not being strong enough to hold off on falling in love with you or not admitting it sooner.

Is she crazy? I’d have been infuriated to know all of this after and not have been there to support her. Clenching my jaw, I keep reading.

If I’m honest with myself (and I’d like to think I have been lately), I’ve been falling since you first came back home. Much like the sloths, I had to camouflage myself, only I was doing it with my anger. I fed myself off the bitterness of the past. The injustice I felt. It’s easier to keep doing the same thing day after day than to look beyond yourself and change.

From the moment you were hired at Hudson, I should have known you weren’t what I thought you were. We should have had it out then, but I was afraid. Buried beneath all of my harsh words was a woman who was hurting from the past who had no idea how to open her mouth and scream out her sense of betrayal.

You tried to hold on. Those letters—when I read them, my heart died…and then it was reborn, Colby.

Did I have a chance? Was it too late? How is it you don’t hate me?

I still don’t completely understand why you held on. Looking at this from a distance, I can’t discern what makes me so special in your eyes. From mine, I’m a hot mess. But I guess I’m your mess, just as you’ll always be mine.

Through thick and thin.

I swore I was living my life, but now I know I was just merely existing until I opened my heart to loving you.

I’m so sorry, Colby. Just like the sloths, I moved slowly to eradicate the walls between us. So much time lost because of my fears.

I hate that time’s moving so slowly, isn’t it?

Soon, my love, you’ll hear the news you’re waiting for. Then time can stop for both of us.

Love,

Corinna

Pull up Spotify. I made you a mix. Pop in the earbuds I packed for you. Get away from the family for a few. Put the journal away for a while. I’ll be back soon.

Reaching for my phone, I launch my Spotify app. Fucking hell. She must have loaded this last night when I dozed off. “Corinna’s Surgery Mix,” I mumble. Digging around in the massively packed bag, I find the case with my earbuds. Popping them in, I push Play. I grab my Corinna-on-a stick and lie back. Closing my eyes, I listen to the first song, clutching my paper Corinna to my chest.