I was practically buzzing all day, counting the hours until I could pull him back under, remind him why he keeps coming to me.
But he didn’t come Monday night. Or Tuesday.
At work, he barely looked at me. I felt him slipping away, and I knew I had to stop it before he convinced himself he could.
Today, all it took was one look. One murmured question.
And he came.
He’s trying to run from this, Iknowit. But I also feel the shift in him. Subtle, yes, but there. The way his hands linger a second longer. The way he holds me tighter, even when he’s pretending not to.
He may not admit it, not even to himself, but something is changing for him.
I won’t let him forget me.
And I’m not going to let him toss me aside like yesterday’s newspaper.
Chapter 11
Take Hannah with you
Cecily
I climb the stairs to check on Alicia. She’s been fighting a cold since yesterday, spending most of the day curled up beneath her blankets.
I find her buried there, all tucked in on herself in the middle of the bed. When I reach to pull the covers back and touch her forehead, she whimpers, curling in on herself.
“M-mommy… t-too cold.”
The heat radiating from her skin nearly stops my heart.
I grab the thermometer from her nightstand, my fingers clumsy as I lift it and aim it at her forehead. I wait, counting the seconds, willing the numbers not to climb.
They do.
104°F.
For a moment, everything inside me goes very still. Then the panic rises—but I don’t let it take hold.
Ignoring her weak protests, I help her to her feet and guide her into the bathroom. I ease the dress down her body, kick off my shoes, and step into the shower with her, adjusting the water until it’s lukewarm. I stay close, one hand braced against her back, the other steadying her as she clings to me—arms tight around my waist, trembling and coughing—while the water runs over her, cooling her skin little by little.
A while later, I wrap her in a robe, peel off my soaked clothes, wrap myself in a towel, and move quickly. Drying her with brisk, careful motions, pulling fresh pajamas over her shoulders. I give her the appropriate dose of Tylenol, watching closely as she swallows with effort. All the while, Alicia remains limp against me, her body heavy, her eyes barely opening.
I settle her back against the headboard and call for Ethan.
He’s upstairs in less than a minute, worry already written across his face.
“Honey,” I say, keeping my voice steady, “stay here with your sister. I’ll get dressed and take her to the hospital. Her fever’s too high… and I don’t like that cough.”
He doesn’t hesitate. He crosses the room and slips an arm around Alicia as she leans weakly against the headboard.
“I’ll drive you, Mom,” he says. “We’ll get her there fast.”
My chest tightens at the certainty in his voice. I kiss the top of his head, gratitude steadying me, and hurry to change.
The next half hour blurs together. Alicia is buckled into the backseat beside me, her breathing shallow, her head lolling against my shoulder. Ethan’s hands stay steady on the wheel as he drives as fast as he dares.
I keep dialing Colin. Once. Twice. Again.
