Chapter 89
By the time they reached the hospital, the morning sun was bright and unforgiving. News of the accident had spread faster than they’d expected; reporters were already camped outside, flashes going off through the glass doors.
Inside, Neema was rushed into a private room. A doctor examined her ankle and confirmed it was a severe sprain, painful but not broken. Quinton had a few scratches and bruises from the fall, nothing serious, though he insisted on staying close to her side through every check-up.
It wasn’t long before they got news that Samantha and Neema’s parents were at the nurses' desk demanding to see Neema. Of course, Neema agreed to see them.
The door burst open not long after, and Neema’s parents rushed in while Samantha was told to wait since Neema couldn’t have too many visitors at the same time. Her mother’s face was pale, eyes wide with panic. “Neema!” she gasped, her hand to her chest as she hurried to the bedside. “My baby, what happened to you?”
“Mom, I’m fine,” Neema said quickly, though she knew it wasn’t entirely true. Her mother’s hands were trembling as they cupped her face.
“Fine?” her mother echoed. “We heard on the news that you were airlifted to the hospital from a mountain! How can you call that fine?”
Hasani Madaki moved more slowly than his wife, but his expression was just as grave. Finally reaching the bed, he placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder, gently pulling her back. “Let her breathe, Noelle. She’s already in the hospital. Don’t suffocate her.”
Neema smiled weakly at him. “Hey, Dad.”
He gave her a small nod. “You gave us quite the scare. I thought I would have to carry your mother to the hospital.”
Noelle huffed and shot her husband a look over her shoulder. “Like you could even carry me.”
“I would have dragged you by the leg.” Her father focused his gaze back on Neema and then Quinton before he shot a glance at the hand Quinton held. His calm eyes met Quinton’s. “And who might you be?”
Neema’s heart skipped. “Dad, this is Quinton. Quinton Fay.”
Her mother’s head snapped toward him. “Quinton Fay? Isn’t he the man you were kissing in those pictures?”
Neema winced. “Yeah.”
For his part, Quinton gave a polite nod, extending his hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, sir, ma’am.”
To Neema’s surprise, her father shook his hand firmly, studying him with a quiet, assessing gaze. “So, you’re the man who’s been keeping our daughter out of trouble? Or is it the opposite, seeing as she’s in a hospital bed?”
Quinton smiled faintly. “It was just an unfortunate incident, sir. I did manage to keep her alive, though, so I hope that counts.”
Neema held her breath, her gaze bouncing between the two men.
Then her father chuckled, easing slightly. “Well, you seem like a decent man. Anyone who’d spend a night in the woods to protect my daughter can’t be all bad.”
Oh, great. Neema released the air even though she saw that her mother was far less amused. Noelle crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes. “Decent men don’t take women hiking in the dark where people shoot at them.”
Quinton opened his mouth, then wisely closed it.
“Mom, it wasn’t like that,” Neema said quickly. “We didn’t know someone would-”
“That’s not the point!” her mother interrupted, her voice sharp. “You could have died! It was reckless, and he never should have put you in that situation.”
Neema sighed, sinking into the pillows. “It was partly my fault, Mom. I’m an adult, remember? It’s not like he forced me into the woods.”
Her father turned to Quinton again. “I trust this will be the last… adventurous night for a while?”
“Yes, sir,” Quinton said without hesitation.
“Good.” Her father gave him a small smile. “You have my respect, son. But if anything like this happens again, I’ll have to reconsider.”
Quinton’s lips twitched into a nervous grin. “Understood.”
Her mother huffed, clearly unconvinced, and sat beside Neema, brushing her daughter’s hair. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately. Café fires, men, gunfire… this is not the quiet life we raised you for.”
Neema bit back a smile. “Life just got interesting, that’s all.”
Her mother gave her a look that could curdle milk. “It’s not supposed to be that interesting, Neema. Why can’t it get more interesting with new baking recipes?”
Quinton stepped forward, his tone calm and sincere. “Mrs. Madaki, I understand your concern. I’d never put Neema in danger on purpose. I care about her. More than you might think.”
Her mother raised an eyebrow but said nothing, though her silence was loud enough.
A beat passed, and then Hasani clapped Quinton on the shoulder. And if Neema wasn’t mistaken, her father gave the shoulder a squeeze, but Quinton didn’t react. “Well, she’s in good hands for now. I’ll hold you to that, son.”
As her parents eventually left the room to speak with the doctor- because they needed to be sure their daughter wasn’t dying- Neema turned to Quinton with a weak, teasing smirk on her lips. “Well, that wasn’t how I planned to make the introductions, but I think my dad likes you.”
Quinton exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I believe the man just threatened my life if anything happens to you. At least he was subtle about it. Your mom, not so much.”
“She’ll come around,” Neema said softly. She hoped because Neema really wanted to see where this with Quinton went, and she wanted her parents on board.
He leaned closer, brushing a finger against her cheek. “I can handle her skepticism. What matters is you.”
She smiled faintly, her hand finding his. Feeling exhausted once again, Neema leaned back against the pillows and held Quinton’s gaze with her heavy one. “Then we’ll be fine,” she said it like a prayer because she truthfully didn’t know. Only God knew what would happen next.