In this moment, I cursed the man who invented the phrase 'the truth shall set you free.' Free was the last thing I felt right now.

"H-how—"

I began my story. "The night of the fight, when I left the trailer park, I got in my car and I was on my way home. It was a green light, so I went, and so did the drunk guy in the white chevy from the left intersection. I was crying so hard in that moment that I didn't even check my blind spot. He crashed right into the side of my car."

I could hear the shakiness in his voice. "Cristina I—" I had to keep going.

"From there everything went black. The next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital bed with an IV in my arm and scars all over me. I see my dad and stepmom right next to me in the hospital chairs. They get up and looked so excited to see me awake. They cried as I asked them what happened. They eventually managed to tell me that 3 and a half years had gone by and I had just woken up from a coma." My crying had started to effect my breathing and it kept getting harder and harder to talk. So I sat down up against the wall on the floor and put my knees to my chin. He soon followed and sat right next to me, now fully intent on hearing me out.

"I was unconscious while they took me to the hospital and assessed my injuries. I had two broken legs, which caused a muscle tear in each leg, three broken ribs, a concussion, and internal cranial bleeding. The doctors said that the only way to keep me alive before and after surgery was to put me in a medically induced coma." I took a few seconds to breathe and continued. "But the hospital in Philadelphia said that they couldn't preform such extensive surgery there. They said something about needing too many attending doctors at once and they didn't have the resources for it. So I was flown to a hospital in New York. I had 4 different doctors from 3 different specialties working on me, all at the same time. After about 9 months when I was stable for long enough, they decided to pull me out of the coma. The only problem was that my body didn't want to. I stayed in the coma for almost another 2 and a half years. And to put the cherry on top of the cake, when I finally woke up not only did I have to come to terms with everything that happened, but between the damage to my legs and how long I was in the coma, I had forgotten how to walk. Luckily there was no damage to my spine so I still had feeling in my legs, but I still had to reteach myself how to walk in physical therapy."

"Cristina I had no idea."

"I know, and i'm sorry. My parents basically up and left leaving everything behind and they were too beat up about me to call or even check in back home. Those 3 and a half years they both went to counseling and they were in no position to tell everything to everybody. When I woke up, and I heard that you guys moved on from me and were doing so well. I made them keep it a secret. I thought it would hurt you less."

"How does me thinking that you got up and left hurt less?" He put his hand on my knee.

"Because you had already thought that I had abandoned you for almost 4 years. I didn't want to cut open old wounds. Not to mention what a fucking basket case I was when I realized I couldn't preform anymore." I had only ever said that sentence out loud 2 times since I woke up. It still gets to me.

"Wait you can't preform?" I could see the pity in his eyes when he said this. All I could do was shake my head.

"After I woke up, I spent about three months in the hospital making sure everything was great and finishing my physical therapy. When I finally got to move into this apartment, I started playing anything I could get my hands on. Electric drum kit, guitar, piano... It didn't feel the same. It's like I forgot how to sing and play everything. My musical slate was wiped clean. Every time I tried playing, my hands didn't move the same and so just couldn't play. I eventually gave up and stopped trying. I started to hate playing. And I decided that i'd rather never play again then grow to hate it. Once I came to that realization, I knew for damn sure you guys shouldn't see me for a while."

"Why not?" The amount of pity in his voice grew and grew with each question.

"Because playing and preforming music was me. It was my thing. My passion. My drive. Without it I had little to no motivation to do anything. I just didn't want you guys to see me like that." I began fidgeting with my fingers to avoid his gaze. I couldn't look at him while he was feeling that sorry for me. It just made me feel worse.

"Cristina." By this point we both had stopped crying and we were able to talk without our voices trembling. "Cory and I have always been there for you. We were there for your first heartbreak, through your mom treating you like crap, hell we were there for you when your parents split."

"Shawn this was different. I was young when my parents split, I hardly remember it, and I didn't even really care about Derek. But this..." I exhaled sharply. "...this ate at me for years. It made me a shell of the girl you knew. I felt like I had hit absolute rock bottom. I thought for the rest of my life I was never gonna be happy. This broke me down in ways that I didn't even know I could break. I didn't need you guys there for that. I didn't expect you guys to know how to fix me when I didn't even know how to fix myself."

"We could've figured that out together Cris." I felt my heart skip a bit when I heard him call me that. He almost said it...endearingly?

"Despite everything we were still best friends, and I would've done everything I could've to help you feel like you again. I think you know that I don't walk away from people that easily. I mean I stuck by you for 18 years of our lives right?"

"I know that. And i'm sorry I let you down. I just didn't want you to look at me like you do now?"

"How am I looking at you?"

"Like i'm a broken little glass doll." He didn't know what to say. "That if you try to pick me up or hold me i'll break into a million pieces."

He changed the subject. "One question."

"Shoot."

"Why tell me all of this now?"

"Because you're here, and you wanted the truth. You just let me see how much this has been eating at you over the past 5 years. I told myself that this was the best thing to do so you wouldn't burden yourself, but I don't want it to eat at you anymore. You don't deserve that. I do."

"No you don't." I looked back up at him. I was surprised how that sentence cane with no hesitation.

"Why not?"

"Because, in the weirdest way possible, I get it. Plus, who knows, maybe if the circumstances were switched I probably would've done the same thing."

"God I hope not." I joked. And for the first time since he got here, we laughed.

The laughter soon died down and I was once again left with these intrusive thought. "I hated myself everyday for not breaking before the car hit me. For not paying more attention to the road. For having to leave you."

"This isn't your fault." He put his hand over mine in reassurance. My skin shivered a bit under his touch.

"Maybe not." I took a deep breath. "But i've caused you so much pain Shawn. I beat myself up everyday for how hurt I imagined you'd be. But now I know it was worse. When I saw you 3 months ago at the cafe you looked at me with so much pain and anger. I've never seen you like that before." My eyes became watery once again.

"I didn't understand though. I didn't know the whole story. I was only mad at you because that was the only way not to be angry with myself. I spent so long thinking I drove you away. That I was the reason you left. I had to be mad you so I could stop beating myself up everyday because I thought it was my fault."

"Shawn none of this was your fault."

"I know that now. But I wasn't angry at you Cristina. I was sad because you weren't in my life anymore."

"I'm sorry I left."

"I'm sorry I didn't look for you sooner and fight for you harder."

"It wouldn't have mattered. I was unconscious and didnt wake up for years. There wasn't enough time in the world to stop it."

"Maybe not, but I should've been there. We all should've been there. Even if you didn't let us. We should've been there when you woke up."

"My parents said it was the hardest years of their lives. Why would you want that?"

"Because it shouldn't have mattered how much it hurt me. You needed me, and I wasn't there."

"You didn't know."

We realized that the conversation kept going in circles so he changed the topic. "Did they catch the guy who did this?"

"Yeah. He got out of jail 6 months ago."

"Why?!" He was shocked.

"I don't know. But I talked to him."

"You what?!" He seemed a little upset.

"I talked to him." I repeated casually. I wanted to let him know that I wasn't angry.

"When?"

"About 6 months after I got out of the hospital."

"Why?"

"After I got out of the hospital, I got really depressed. Not being able to do any of the things I loved anymore and having to learn how to navigate with this new lifestyle really took a toll on me. Violet tried doing everything she could to help pull me out of my funk, but almost none of it was working. My parents had me start going to therapy. It helped a lot. My therapist said that in order to be happy again I had to come to terms with what happened. Start making new hobbies and stop trying to deny myself happiness because I wasn't the same girl anymore. She helped me forgive myself and embrace my new life. And then, she helped me forgive him. She said it was important to forgive him so I could move forward. So with a lot of time and a lot of work. I did. I went to the jail, I heard him out, and I forgave him."

Shawn had looked at me as if forgiveness was suddenly a foreign concept. "How?"

"He had been drinking for months. His wife had died of cancer a couple of months before the accident. That night he ran out of liquor at his house and decided to take his truck to the store to get more. Thankfully I was the only one with serious injuries. After he heard what happened to me, he said he felt so awful. Awful enough that he surrendered himself to the police peacefully and pleaded guilty in court. When I went to go see him, he told me how sorry he was. He said that on the night of the crash he vowed never to drink again. Since there aren't exactly any bars in prison, he said that his long road to sobriety would start when he got out. I check in on him every week to see how he's doing. He is still sober and tells me every week that he looks forward to hearing from me again. Before I hang up I make sure to remind him of how great he's doing and how proud his wife is as she watches over him from above, seeing how much he's turned his life around. And each week he says he owes it all to me."

He smiles at me and just stares. "What?" I said curiously.

"This." I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "After all that has happened and after all the time that has passed, this hasn't changed. You're still the most fierce and loving woman I have ever met." He turned his body to fully face me and grabbed my hand so our fingers were intertwined. "And this is why i'm still in love with you. It's why I will always be in love with you."

His words rang in my ears and the water in my eyes, had now turned into happy tears.

"I'm in love with you too."

As soon as the words left my mouth Shawn put his hand on my face and kissed me. We haven't kissed in so long I almost forgot how his lips felt with mine. It was like our first kiss in his trailer all over again.

I missed this.