Letting My Brother's Best Friend Take My V-Card (Jessie and Luke) novel Chapter 382

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LAURA 

The road stretched ahead, dark and endless, the snowfall thickening as it danced under the glow of the headlights. The world outside was a blur, the wipers swishing steadily, but inside the car, it was warm and cozy. Jess was in the driver’s seat, tapping the steering wheel along with the beat of whatever song was playing too softly on the radio. 

My hands rested on my belly, its slight curve a comforting weight beneath my palms. It was strange–I didn’t remember it being this big. Hadn’t I just found out I was pregnant? Wait, the song was different. This isn’t the song that was playing when… 

I frowned, shifting slightly. 

There was something I needed. 

Something in the backseat. 

I unbuckled my seatbelt without thinking, twisting in my seat to reach for it- 

Lights. 

Bright, blinding lights. 

A sharp gasp, and then- 

Éverything hurt. 

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My body seized, like every single muscle clenched at once, and then there was nothing. 

Darkness. 

Floating. 

Time didn’t exist. 

Then- 

Voices. 

Muffled. Sharp. Too many of them all at once. 

Light again, but not headlights this time. Blinding fluorescents above me, burning into my retinas. Shadows moving. Faces. 

I tried to move. 

Nothing. 

I tried to speak. 

Nothing. 

Panic swelled in my chest like a balloon, pressing against my ribs, my lungs. My fingers twitched, and suddenly, someone noticed. A sharp exclamation in a language I didn’t understand. 

More faces appeared. Wide eyes. Staring. 

My body ached, deep and unfamiliar, like I’d been stretched too thin. I felt wrong. Disconnected. 

Someone was touching me. A hand pressing against my wrist. 

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Another on my shoulder. 

I wanted to scream, but nothing came out. Was I even trying? It’s like my body forgot how to move. My muscles forgot their function. 

The,n a man’s voice–soothing, calm–spoke in accented English. 

“There is a tube in your throat.” His voice was measured and practiced. “It is called a tracheostomy. It’s helping you breathe. Your diaphragm isn’t strong enough to do it on it’s own after such a long time. Please, do not panic.” 

My throat burned. 

I tried to lift a hand, and pain splintered through me. 

“You were in an accident,” he continued. “A severe accident.” 

Something cold settled in my chest. My stomach clenched. 

Accident. 

My brain tried to make sense of it. The road. The snow. The lights. The pain. 

Jess. 

The baby. 

Oh, God. The baby. 

A weak, strangled noise slipped from my throat–more of a croak than anything else. My heart slammed against my ribs, the machine beside me beeping faster, a steady, climbing 

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rhythm. 

A different voice–softer this time, female–spoke something I didn’t understand. 

“She is in distress,” the man said, switching back to English. “Laura, listen to me. Your heart stopped. Do you understand? We had to keep it going with compressions, and we had to shock you. It seems the cardiac arrest somehow… ” 

No. 

That didn’t make sense. 

I couldn’t have- 

He kept talking, his voice gentle but firm. “Your husband never signed the end–of–life documents, so we resuscitated you.” 

The words didn’t compute at first. They jumbled together, slipping through my mind like water through shaking fingers. 

Heart stopped. 

Resuscitated. 

Husband. 

Josh. 

Josh.