That brings a smile to his face. “How would the old Lauren be handling this?”
“She’d be blaming herself for resting while her dad was having a heart attack.”
“Is there any piece of you that’s still listening?”
“A small one.” I glance down at the linoleum flooring, wondering why they chose beige. It’s such a joyless color in a place that could use a spark of positivity. “The rational, more mature part of me knows my dad loves his work. He wasn’t stepping back, and this could’ve happened any time, but the other part feels guilt at not being there to look out for him.”
Jax stops walking, grabbing my other hand in his and looking me in the eyes. “Don’t let old Lauren win, okay? This was not your fault. Everyone knows your dad has a hard time taking breaks because he’s passionate about the work he does on the ranch. He’s kind of like someone else I know.” He squeezes my hands. “That fight in him is what’s going to get him through this, and that same fight in you is what’s going to getyouthrough this. Maybe you should talk with your dad when he’s ready. I think that might help clear the air.”
“I think it would too.” We continue wandering down the halls. We aren’t talking, but nurses buzz past us, and announcements come over the intercom, filling what would otherwise be silence as I internally play out my conversation with Dad. Slowly, my thoughts drift to pride in myself for handling things the way I have today. I let myself break down. I’ve allowed Jax to be there for me instead of pushing him away. I might actually be changing for the better.
The thought brings me so much peace, and I can’t help but wonder if Jax would feel the same way if he told his mom about the letter from his dad or the guilt he holds from years ago. Maybe he could find peace.
“You know, guilt can make us do some crazy things,” I say. “I’m pretty sure if this had happened a month ago, I would’ve tried to push you away as a way of punishingmyself for not focusing on my dad more.” The weight of the truth hangs over us for a beat before I add, “Maybe it’s time for you to talk to your mom and let go of your guilt.”
Chapter Forty-Six
Jax
I don’t even tryto hide my displeasure at the thought. It’s wonderful that Lauren is growing, but I don’t know that a conversation with my mom would help. It might just make things worse.
I scratch the back of my head. “Do I have to?”
“I’m not saying it has to be today, but I think the conversation would take a weight off your chest, just like me talking with my dad.” She squeezes my hand in reassurance, looking so certain this is the right thing to do.Maybe it is.
We walk past a woman standing outside a room with tears in her eyes. A man wraps his arms around her in an effort to soothe her, but it doesn’t stop her wailing. Lauren pauses her walking to watch, eyes wide. I quickly grab her, shuffling her down the hallway. I’m searching for a way to distract her from the scene when she says my name, her voice cracking.
“What if I don’t get to talk with him? What if he doesn’t pull through?”
“Don’t you dare say something like that.” I frown, drawing her into my side as we pass a receptionist desk decorated with a mini Christmas tree and a few lame pieces of tinsel. “You’re going to have a lot more wonderful memories with your dad. He isn’t going anywhere.”
She looks up at me with an ache in her eyes that makes me feel helpless. I wish I could erase the last six hours for her, but I can’t, so I settle for the next best thing. Casting my hand in an arch and putting on my brightest smile, I say, “I can see it now. We’ll take over your family’s Sunday breakfasts and invite my mom and Aunt Carol too. We’ll have a couple little ones making a mess at our end of the table, and you’ll be frantically trying to clean it up while your dad and I tease you about how silly it is to clean up their mess before the meal is over.”
Tears shimmer in her eyes for the second time today.No. No. No.
I swipe a tear off her cheek. “Sorry, I was trying to cheer you up.”
“You are.” She laughs in embarrassment. “I just can’t believe how badly I want that.”
“You’re going to have it, Freckles.”
“I hope so.”
I take both her hands, squeezing them tight. “Your dad is a fighter, remember? He’s going to be back and kicking real soon. You’ll see.”
“Yeah.” She glances down at the floor then back up at me. “Thank you for being here for me. You managed to put a smile on my face and pull laughter from my lungs when I didn’t think either was possible today. You’re always uplifting me, and your presence makes me feel so at peace.”
“I’ll always be here for you, Freckles.”
She nods, a smile blooming on her face. “I know.”
On the ride home from the hospital, I turn Lauren’s words over and over again in my mind.Maybe it’s time to talk with your mom about your guilt.
A day ago, I probably wouldn’t have even considered it, but today has shown me how quickly people can be taken from us—what growth and healing can look like. I want that for Mom and me. I know the conversation will be difficult, but it will be good for both of us to sort through our pain from years ago and move on. I don’t want to hang on to this hurt anymore. Nine years has been long enough.
The thought of moving on makes me feel lighter. A warmth fills my chest, but it’s almost immediately replaced with dread when I pull into my driveway and my headlights flash over a shadowy figure on my front porch.What the hell?
I don’t even bother parking my truck in the garage both because there’s a truck blocking my way, and because I can’t stand the thought of waiting to figure out who is showing up at my house unannounced late at night.
