The only person I want to talk to right now is Silas, but after everything I’ve put him through, I guess I owe it to him to be patient.
I can wait.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Pulling into the hospital parking lot, it takes me a few minutes before I can even turn the engine off. I probably look like a crazy person, running through every grounding exercise I’ve learned and touching all the different textures in my truck, but it helps a little.
I’m grateful that Tristan showed up when I texted him and drove me to the track to help rescue my truck and Cade’s bike. I was exhausted from pacing around the hospital all night, trying to keep Cade’s mom from freaking out, and stonewalling the cops when they briefly showed up to ask questions. And all through it, Cade didn’t wake up. Things got real scary real quick in the ambulance, and then they were doing so many tests and stuff that I couldn’t even see him for hours once we got to the ER.
They keep telling me that there’s no reason for him not to be fine, he just needs to heal, but it doesn’t feel like it. Not when I haven’t heard the sound of his voice for so long.
I take a final, steadying breath and climb out of the truck, feeling each of my feet as they hit the asphalt. Tristan pulls into the parking lot a couple spaces down and walks over to join me.
“I appreciate the ride, but you don’t have to walk me in, I’m fine,” I say.
“Yeah but I want to see the kid. I’ll be fast though, I gotta sleep before work tonight.”
Tristan claps his hand on my shoulder, but I flinch because I forgot he has work in a few hours—just like Cade was supposed to—and not only will he not have his normal partner, but he’s spent the morning running around town to help me out.
Guilt seeps into my bones, but it’s a familiar feeling so I let myself numb to it.
“I’m sorry, man. I shouldn’t have called.”
“Are you kidding? You know I love to play the big savior. Always call. I gotchu.”
We spend the rest of the walk in silence, heading through the busy, buzzing hospital until we get back to Cade’s wing.
Tristan is the one that breaks the silence before we get to the room.
“I’m proud of how you’re holding it together, by the way. It’s been a fucked-up couple of weeks, and you’ve handled all of it,” he says.
I blow out a breath. “I don’t feel like it. If anything I feel like I’ve just made things worse. Or at least not done enough to make them better.”
A wave of emotion pinches at my face while I speak, but I push it back down.
“Nah, that’s bullshit. A year ago? You would have been a wreck. No offense, but it’s true. You and Cade were still so messy you were running away from each other instead of talking. At least now you’re trying. You’ve come a long way this year, you should give yourself credit. You’re making the best choices youcan in the circumstances, trying to manage your emotions, you even let me feed you this morning. That’s nothing to turn your nose up at. That’s progress.”
He says it all in a too-light tone, which somehow makes the words easier to swallow. But then he gets more serious.
“You—and the rest of us trauma babies, let’s be real—will never be what most people think of as normal. These problems will always be a part of you. But you can get it to a place where it’s manageable, and let that be your new normal. You’re already well on your way. So don’t give up.”
We pass Kris talking animatedly to someone at the nurse’s station and I hope she’s not being rude but I don’t have the energy to check right now. But from the few words I overhear, it sounds like Cade’s awake, which makes both me and Tristan pick up speed on the way to his room. As soon as we get to the open doorway, though, I freeze.
It’s not panic that sets in, or anxiety. It’s something heavy. Something that tells me the world is changing around me too fast, and if I just pause for a minute, I can delay the inevitable. There are so many possibilities for what could happen when I walk into that room and see how Cade is, and I’m not ready to face a single one of them.
“You okay?” Tristan asks.
“I need a minute. You go in.”
The words come out in a whisper, and I force myself to stand with my back to the wall, taking one deep breath after another.
Tristan nods and heads inside. He leaves the door open, though, so I can hear everything that gets said once he’s inside.
“Hey,” Cade says. “Are you here to yell at me?”
His voice sounds rough, but strong. And calm, which possibly relieves me most of all.
“Do you want me to yell at you?”
