The pain screaming back at me is undeniable.
I hold him close. His hair just beneath my nose, my arm tight around his shoulder.
There’s nothing that I can give to ease him, nothing that will change what I know is inevitable. No words of wisdom or comfort. And thathurts.
Over top of his head, my eyes flick to the lockbox set back into the storage lining the walls. The whole thing can come out, like a mini safe, and it’s where all the stored narcotics sit.
Quiet.
It would be easy to just … get the keys from Hatley and give him something. Make the blow feel likeless.
Quiet.
The snap of the back doors opening has my head swinging to my best friend’s pinched expression. His sight flicks to where mine was, his brows down low and darkening his features.
“C’mon. Let’s get him upstairs.”
My nod is slow and my movements even slower as I guide us into the hospital.
I’m struck, the moment I cross that threshold, with a feeling so uneasy, my knees buckle. Barely managing to keep myself up, I pull Em in tighter to my side.
Focus on him.
The tears still haven’t stopped, they’re just silent now.
Somehow … that feels worse.
My heart thunders around the ache in my chest, my throat too thick for words as Bobbie meets us just outside the room where they’re keeping Emmett’s mom.
This is it. This is where I lose him.
“Emmett, my precious nephew,” she nearly cries and opens her arms for him.
He doesn’t go to her. Just shakes his head and sniffs.
“Go,” I nudge with a rasp. “She’ll explain everything.”
Bloodshot eyes meet mine, watery and desperate.
“Wait, Tristen.”
“I-I gotta get back—”
He slumps, his lip wobbling. “Please, don’t go.”
He’s staring right at me when he says it, and the way his eyes fill tells me he already knows the answer.
I have to.
He’s got Bobbie with him. A confidant that’s not me or Hatley, but someone familiar. He needs this. Time away from me and to be with his mom, however short it might be, even if he hates her.
He deserves closure and clarity, even if he doesn’t come back to me after.
I hope I’m wrong assuming he won’t.
“I’ll check on you. I promise,” I murmur low and walk away.
It’s not until I stab the call button on the elevator that I turn back around to catch his gaze and those tears finally fall.
