Page 53 of Gravity

“Nora,” he warns. “You need to rest. There’s nothing you can do until Dad’s awake. Grayson will be with you.”

I want to say there’s nothing he can do either and that I can make my own decisions about where and when I’ll go, but the truth is, I’m tired. I don’t like hospitals at the best of times, so for the sake of not starting an argument I agree with him.

“Okay. I’ll go.” I turn to look at him. “But the slightest change, you ring me.”

“I will. I promise.”

Kissing Dad on the head once more, I give Asher a hug before I head out of the room with a heaviness in my body at the thought of leaving him and everything I’ve learned today.

It’s unbearable at times seeing the way he has become and knowing that it’s only a matter of time until a stroke takes hold of him again, or now a seizure. Now he has the chance of either, I feel like I’m a day closer to losing the first man I’ve ever loved. With a heavy heart, I say goodbye to Mom, and I kiss her on the cheek, right before I head out of the hospital and fall apart.

Chapter Fifteen

Grayson

I pull up outside the Nelsons’ house and turn off the engine to my truck, taking in the silence as the past few hours have been nothing but chaos. I knew from the moment I’d seen the look in Dr. Newman’s eyes that he wasn’t giving good news—I’ve grown to recognize that look over time—and although Pete is doing well with all things considered, that hasn’t stopped the weight in my chest crush me since we heard the news.

Why is it always the good ones—the ones who fought, loved, and cherish this world and those around it? Why them? Who decides it’s their time to fight for their freedom and health while others walk around this world completely untouchable? I don’t wish ill of anyone, but there are people out there who have done wrong and are still doing it while the likes of Pete and my mother suffer in ways they don’t deserve. Looking over to my porch, I latch eyes on the rocking chair that rests in the corner—Mom’s rocking chair. The one that brings back so many memories each time I walk in and out of the house. That chair has been in our family since she was a child herself, and I’ll never forget the spring mornings I’d find her sitting out on it enjoying her first hot cup of coffee. Spring was her favorite season, and she’d thrived each day like a flower that bloomed. With her fair hair and her green eyes that sparkled, and her big white smile, she was enough to brighten up anyone’s days.

But that would all change once my father returned home after being deployed.

Many military wives shed a tear when their loved ones leave, knowing they won’t see them for months or maybe even at all, but with Mom, it had been reversed. She’d lived her best life in the times when Dad hadn’t been around.

It was fucked up, and I’d never been able to understand it, but the older I got, the more I started to witness, and I understood fully when I saw it clear as day with my own eyes: she hadn’t been terrified of losing him; she’d been terrified of him returning.

If only she’d known how hard it was for me losing her, maybe then she would have thought twice—still be here. If only she’d realized how fucking hard it had been being back at that shit hole of a hospital today, waiting and waiting. I’d hated every second. I’d felt sick at every turn, and my heart had been racing so fucking fast I’d thought I would end up in the Emergency Department.

I did it because I had to, not because I wanted to, and no matter how many times I am there for Asher and Nora, the woman beside me has no idea that this time, while I’d been there keeping her upright, she’d been the one preventing me from falling, too.

I look over at Nora, her eyes focus on nothing in particular as she stares out of the windscreen, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her top. She’s not spoken since we left the hospital only breaking down as she’d headed outside. News like this is massive, but with Nora and the relationship she’s always had with her father, it’s become too much for her.

“I saw the change in him,” she whispers, still looking ahead. “When I came home earlier today, he didn’t look right. Maybe if I’d had stayed with him. Maybe if I’d have not gone out today, I could have stopped it.”

“Nora, you wouldn’t have been able to stop something like that. No one could have predicted today’s events.”

“Maybe I’ve pushed him too much with all these stupid ‘old times’ I’ve been believing he needs.”

I need her to stop blaming herself. I can’t have her thinking this has anything to do with her and the fun she’s been having with Pete.

Leaning over, I cup her face, turning her so she has to look at me. Her eyes are big and glassy in the moonlight that shines through the windscreen, highlighting her face. “Listen to me. This was not your fault. You’ve said yourself that your dad wants to do these things with you and that in return you like seeing the look on his face.”

“I do.”

“So then stop blaming yourself for something that is beyond your control. This was not you. Okay?”

She studies me for a second before her eyes close briefly and she nods, exhaling her hesitation. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“Never apologize for being sad. Now, are you ready to go inside?”

“Will you stay with me for a while?”

I smile. “I was planning on it.”

Once out of the truck and inside the house, anxiety becomes too much, and I’m heading for the whiskey that’s calling to me from the minibar. The house is as we left it: beer bottles on the table and puzzle pieces scattered around the floor from all the commotion while the smell of cold pizza lingers, making my stomach rumble in hunger.

“You hungry? You need to try and eat something,” I say.

“Maybe in a bit. I’m gonna take a shower first. Need to get myself together. Then I’ll clear up.” She stands in the doorway of the kitchen as though she’s too afraid to step any further. She looks tired, vulnerable, and I want nothing more than to take away whatever anxiety she is consumed with. Going to her, I take her face in my hands to make her look up at me.