I Swear I Still Hate Him (Atlas Lawson) novel Chapter 120

16:00 Tue, Jan 27

Chapter 120

Chapter 120

Emery’s POV

The room was quiet, except for the soft beeping of a monitor somewhere to my left.

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The doctor stood by my bed, his voice gentle but clipped, like he was trying not to overwhelm me.

“Can you tell me your full name?”

I blinked slowly, my throat dry and scratchy. “Emery Collins,” I rasped, my voice barely there.

“Good. And do you know where you are?”

“Hospital… I guess,” I mumbled, shifting my eyes to the ceiling. Everything felt foggy, like my brain was waking up way slower than my body.

“How about today’s date?”

I paused. My eyebrows pinched together. “No idea,” I whispered.

He smiled kindly. “That’s okay. You’ve been through a lot. But you’re awake now, and that’s what matters.”

I gave a weak smile, or at least tried to. Even my facial muscles felt like they needed a warm-up. Two months. That’s what they said. Two freaking months.

He did a few more checks, asked if I could feel pressure in my arms, move my fingers, wiggle my toes, and I did. Sort of. Not all of them.

“You’re healing. It’s gonna take time, Emery,” he said, his voice low but reassuring. “But you’re strong.”

I nodded, even though I didn’t feel strong. I felt like a balloon someone had let all the air out of.

My dad stepped in as the doctor left, murmuring something to him outside. I laid there in silence, my eyes scanning the room. White walls, dull lights, a tiny window with barely-there sunlight creeping in. It was cold. Too cold. And it smelled like sterile plastic and sadness.

Where was he?

“Atlas,” I whispered, my voice cracking.

The second Dad walked back in, I lifted my head slightly, my voice barely a breath. “Hey, Dad…”

“Hey, pumpkin.” He leaned in and kissed my forehead.

“Where’s Atlas?” I asked, trying to sound casual, but my heart was already racing.

Dad hesitated. Just for a second. “He left for school first thing this morning.”

“Oh.” I looked away, swallowing hard.

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Chapter 120

Of course he did. School. He had a life. He couldn’t just put it on hold for me.

Still… it stung. I didn’t know why, but it did.

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“He was here the whole time,” Dad added, like he could read my mind. “Stayed every night. Barely slept. He promised Daisy he’d leave once you woke up.”

My throat tightened. I gave a small nod, biting my lip to keep it from trembling.

“Emery, there’s something I…”

I shifted slightly, trying to sit up straighter, adjust my weight.

But the second I moved my legs…My. Leg…

No…please no. My stomach twisted. Panic slammed hard into my chest it felt suffocating.

“Dad.”

Something was wrong.

“Dad,” I said again, my voice smaller, sharper.

Please no.

He stepped closer, reaching for me. “Emery, I need you to try and stay calm…”

But I couldn’t. My hands were already moving, trembling as I clawed at the sheets, yanking them down…

And then I saw it.

Or more accurately… I didn’t.

My breath caught. My heart dropped into my stomach.

Where my left leg should’ve been…

Gone.

A raw, broken sob ripped out of my throat. My entire body shook as I stared, horrified, at the emptiness beneath the blanket.

“No…”

“Emery…baby, listen to me…” Dad rushed to my side, wrapping his arms around me as I collapsed into him, sobbing so hard I could barely breathe.

“How…how could this…” My words were choked, messy, not even words anymore.

“It was the accident,” he whispered. “It…it was crushed, Em. Beyond repair. The doctors… they had no choice. It was the only way to save your life.”

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Chapter 120

:

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But I didn’t feel saved…I felt like a stranger in my own body. Incomplete. Broken. A shell of the girl I used to

When the sobs finally died down, I just laid there, staring at the ceiling in stunned silence. My hand hovered near the blanket, but I couldn’t bring myself to touch where my leg should’ve been.

Not yet.

According to Dad, the accident had torn it to pieces. The only option was amputation.

I closed my eyes, trying to block it all out, but the tears leaked out anyway.

I didn’t just lose a leg… It felt like I’d lost me.

***

We stayed two more weeks in the hospital just to make sure I didn’t, I don’t know, suddenly drop dead again or something. After that came rehab, where I’d been referred to “one of the best sports therapists in the state,” or so they said. And because life clearly wasn’t done slapping me around yet, Dad suggested I take a gap year.

Which was a nice way of saying: “Sweetie, you’re too messed up for midterms.”

“How are you feeling, Emerald?”

Dr. Rowe asked with that same warm, gentle smile she always wore. She looked like someone off a health magazine cover, black curls that framed her face, glowing skin, perfect posture. Basically, everything I wasn’t. She was great at her job. And I was… just being difficult.

I plastered on my go-to smile. You know the one. Tight. Painfully polite. The one that says I’m fine while your insides feel like it’s been ripped apart…yeah that one.

“Oh, I’m much better, Dr. Rowe. I take my meds. Go for a morning run. Go for my weekly and monthly checkups. And I’m finally getting used to my prosthetic,” I said with a forced cheeriness, my voice doing a great impression of someone who hadn’t spent last night crying into her pillow at 2 a.m. “I even gave her a name, EC or should it be CE… It’s my initials by the way.”

My smile stretched wider, so wide it made my cheeks hurt. Like actually ache. I didn’t even realize how long I was holding it until my face twitched.

Dr. Rowe gently reached out, placing her hand on mine. Her eyes held that therapist-y softness that made me want to scream and sob at the same time.

“It’s okay if you need time,” she said. “Just so you know, I’m always here if you want to talk.”

God, I hated that she could see right through me. Like I was some open book.

I slipped my hand out of hers, trying not to make it awkward. “Of course,” I said quickly. “Can I go now?”

She nodded, still smiling. “Of course, Emery.”

I practically grabbed my bag like it was a lifeline and bolted. The moment I stepped out of her office, I finally

16:00 Tue, Jan 27

Chapter 120

exhaled. Deep, shaky breath in. Deep, shaky breath out.

But that relief lasted all of three seconds.

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Because my overprotective father decided I needed a driver. Apparently, having one leg meant I couldn’t drive or Uber like a normal human anymore. And of course, he didn’t just hire anyone. Nope. He’d screened, interviewed, and background-checked over fifty people until he got the perfect one

I sighed and slipped in my earbuds, blasting some indie pop just to drown out the fact that I was being babysat again. I opened the car door and climbed in, adjusting the strap of my bag across my chest and glancing down at my left leg.

Or what was left of it.

EC or CE (still deciding on that), my new best frenemy. I gave her a name to make her feel less like a stranger and more like… mine. Maybe it was stupid, but it helped. A little.

Just a little.

I leaned my head against the window, pretending to be okay while I was…not.

***

The great thing about a mansion? It’s big enough to hide in. Like, really hide. You could get lost for hours and no one would find you unless they were trying hard enough.

Which was perfect, because I didn’t want to be found.

I walked through the garden, dragging my fingers along the tops of the hedges. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out.

Dad.

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