Letting My Brother's Best Friend Take My V-Card (Jessie and Luke) novel Chapter 391

REPORTERS 

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REPORTERS 

LAURA 

The nurse helped guide me into my seat, her hands gentle but firm as she made sure I was secure. I bit my lip, trying to ignore the deep frustration bubbling beneath the surface. I hated this. Hated needing help for everything. 

The airport had already drained me more than I cared to admit. 

Reporters had been everywhere. Cameras flashing in my face, microphones shoved too close, voices overlapping in an unrelenting storm of invasive questions. 

“Laura, how does it feel knowing your husband moved on with your daughter’s teacher?” 

“Are you mentally fit to return home?” 

“Can you walk? Are you able to take care of your child?” 

Like I was some sort of spectacle. A tragic story to be dissected, to be whispered about in headlines and morning shows. 

The worst part? 

I had nothing to say. 

Because what could I say? That I didn’t blame Josh? That I wasn’t mad? That I understood? 

11:13 

REPORTERS 

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Even if all of that was true, it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. 

I had forgiven him. I knew I had. But that didn’t erase the ache that settled deep in my bones when I let my mind wander too long. 

It was easier during the day, when Asha was around, her bright blue eyes–Josh’s eyes–watching me with careful curiosity, her soft blonde curls falling over her face as she played. 

She was still shy, still unsure about me. 

And I didn’t blame her for that, either. 

I was a stranger to her. 

Her mother, but not Mommy. 

That was something I would have to earn. 

The nurse sat beside me as the plane took off, her presence a silent reassurance. The flight was long–too long. Ten hours of being stuck in this seat, stuck in my own head. 

The hum of the engines became white noise as exhaustion pulled at me, but every time I closed my eyes, flashes of the accident came rushing back. 

The sharp impact. 

The feeling of weightlessness before my body hit something hard. 

Then… nothing. 

Just darkness. 

11:137 

REPORTERS 

I remembered waking up. I remembered pain. But I didn’t remember a single second of the years in between. 

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To me, it felt like I had gone to sleep one night and woken up the next day. Except, in reality, three years had passed. 

Asha had grown. Josh had grieved, moved on, found someone else. 

And I… I had missed all of it. 

My fingers clenched slightly against the armrest, and I forced myself to focus on something else. 

I turned my head toward the window, watching the clouds stretch endlessly beneath us. 

When I got back home, I would have work to do. 

I needed to walk again. I needed to regain my strength. I needed to be a mother to my daughter. 

I needed to be me again. 

The wheels of the plane hit the ground with a jolt, and I let out a slow breath, my body tense from being in the same position for so long. I hated flying before the accident–being stuck in a metal tube, thousands of feet in the air, with no control over anything–but now, after everything, it was even worse. 

The nurse beside me helped unbuckle my seatbelt and gently placed a hand on my arm. “We’ll wait until most of the passengers deboard. Give you a little more space.” 

I nodded, grateful for her thoughtfulness, but I was barely paying attention. My mind was still caught on the reality I had 

11:137 

REPORTERS 

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only fully processed a few hours ago. 

I wasn’t going home. 

At least, not to the home I remembered. 

Now, I was going to Texas. 

Texas.