Meanwhile, I need to work out what I’m doing in my own life. I don’t have a plan, and it freaks me out. I need to find my purpose. Settling somewhere is definitely on the cards, and although I’m hoping it’s either in or near Missarali, I don’t know what the future holds for me because, deep down, I think of myself as less talented and capable than my peers, and probably won't stick my neck out with confidence. The hypothetical compass in my hand is spinning out of control, and although I feel like I have an idea of how to make it stop, I can’t let my thoughts go there.
“I love you, Flo.”
Those three little words are enough to make my chest tighten and throat sting. I’m supposed to be the grown-up here, the steady one, the one who loves this kid just enough so he feels cared for, but not so much that the separation will be a problem for either of us. I try to tell myself that Leo doesn’t understand what he’s saying. He’s throwing around the sentence because he doesn’t fully get its meaning, but I have a feeling that’s not entirely true.
Will Evan be mad? I know this wasn't what he wanted. He was hoping for my relationship with Leo to remain professional.
I want to tell him that I love him too, but that feels like a promise I can’t keep. So instead, I brush his tousled hair from his forehead and say, “That’s very sweet of you, buddy.” Guilt swarms me, though, and I open my mouth again. “And—”
A sudden loud buzzing sound can be heard from the house, followed by a few screams. God, Mae and Poppy have probably blown the blender up.
“Milkshakes!” Leo yells as he jumps up.
“I bet they’ve got ice cream up the walls.”
But as Leo begins running towards the house, full of excitement, he trips over his own feet, landing on his arm, and his loud and pained wail rolls over me like I’m being doused in ice-cold water.
28: Evan
The first thing I did when I received a call from Flo telling me that she was taking Leo to Missarali City Hospital was leap in my car and break every speed limit from the stadium to the hospital, so much so that by the time the hospital called me, I was only a few minutes away.
Flo had said not to worry, but I could hear by the tone in her voice that she was seconds away from breaking, and was trying to keep it together for my sake.
Death scares me. Or more, the people around me that I care about dying scares me. Receiving the news that my father had died in combat and I would never get to see him again was enough to ruin my childhood and scar me for life. The thought of anyone else leaving without getting to say goodbye or tell them how much they mean to me haunts my brain, and it’s hitting me like a truck right now, even if this is just a simple, potentially fractured arm.
My hands are gripping the steering wheel far too hard when I pull into the hospital parking lot. I’ve lost all feeling in them, and my fingers are ghostly white.
The doors slide open with a hiss as I enter, and the bright, sterile shade of white hits me as I step into the entrance. With a watering nose due to the intense scent of disinfectant, I march up to the main desk. “Leonardo West,” I say, and the male nurse points me in the direction of where my son would be.
My shoes click against the polished flooring that reflects the searing overhead lighting, and I see my reflection in the spotless tiles.
Heavy scowl. Worried lips. Blazing eyes.
Reaching a break in the hallway with multiple different turns I could take, I grind my teeth. All the halls look the same, and nurses and doctors rush around, clinging to equipment, busy with their noses buried into clipboards.
It’s like something takes over me as I push my legs faster down one of the halls, and I can feel the thin thread holding me together snapping when I enter a waiting room and see Mae sitting there in a chair with her chin resting in her hands, face pale.
“Evan.” She immediately stands, points to a room, and I storm in to see Leo sitting on a bed, but no cast. His eyes immediately begin to water, and I clutch onto him as he blubbers, “Daddy, I fell.”
One of my hands smoothes gentle circles over his back as I reply, “I know, kiddo. You’re okay.”
“The father, I presume?” A male doctor asks me as hepulls back the curtain.
I nod.
“Leonardo’s fine. Just a bone contusion, or bone bruise, if you will. It’s a little swollen and will need some ice, but a cast won’t be necessary. Looks like he just took a little bit of an awkward tumble. I’d suggest some gentle painkillers for a few days. I’ll just need to recheck his vitals and have you sign some forms before we can send him home.”
“Thank you.”
“Because we were concerned about a broken arm, we treated him immediately, and contacted both you and his mother about his condition. It’s a legal obligation.”
I freeze. My ears make this strange high-pitched ringing sound, and for a moment, the walls of the hospital room cave in. “You… what?”
The doctor flicks up and down on his iPad, reading the information. “Miss Zara Scott—on our files as Leo’s mother. We tried to speak to her, but once she heard what it was about, she said she was busy. Didn’t sound too pleased to take our call.” Confusion masks his face, along with worry, and I pull him aside so Leo can’t hear.
I thought Zara would have removed herself from all of Leo’s documents, so I guess this is just an oversight—something I’m going to have to do for her. I’m not happy about her being updated on my son, especially because she’s probably laughing about how crappy of a father I am to have allowed my child to get himself hurt without me present.
“She’s not part of our lives. I’d appreciate it if we could take her off as one of Leo’s guardians. I have full custody.”I'm attempting to keep my voice polite, but my frustration is seeping through the cracks.
