This time he wakes up more, but it’s plain to see he’s still not awake, or his normal self. At least this time, he turns this way, his eyes are half open and he searches for me.
“Simmy.” His voice might be croaky but the familiarity in his voice brings a rush of relief. I’ve been so worried we’relosing him but one word, and he sounds more like himself than he has been since I arrived.
He licks his lips, and before he can ask, I’m holding a glass of water, the straw poised at his lips. He draws on it a few times and then lays his head back against the pillow, closing his eyes.
I go to give him another little shake, but he shocks the hell out of me when he starts talking quietly. “I promise I haven’t forgotten, Sim. I’ll go around and see the Hendersons as soon as mom gets home from the shops. Just hang in there, kiddo. Keep writing and trying your hardest, I’m not letting you pack that monster.”
The water I’m holding drops to the ground, splashing up my legs. I’m so stunned by what he said. I don’t quite believe it.
“Dad? What did you say?”
Lawson looks up at me but I’m not sure he can see me. It’s weird. His eyebrows draw together, and he starts blinking slowly like he’s fighting sleep.
“Do whatever you have to, Simona. You’ve got my full support, always. You know I’ll back you,” he says, but towards the end his words become mumbled as they run together, only stopping because he’s back asleep.
I shake him harder than the other times, raising my voice. “Dad!”
He makes a small snore, and then I’m wondering if I just made the whole scene up. I mean, I know I didn’t, but it’s got that weird Twilight Zone feel to it where you wonder if you’ve lost your mind or not.
He is clearly asleep. Even when I make lots of noise, opening cupboards to find some paper to mop the water up, he doesn’t do anything but sleep and snore.
I’m still thrown by what happened. It was so freaky. I know some people sleepwalk and talk, but I hadn’t seen itfirst-hand. The other thing it might have been was him talking through his medication, like a psychotic episode, but I’m not a doctor. Not being able to figure out how he did it, my thoughts focus on what he actually said and how he said it. He sounded like my dad from the day before he had his heart-attack. And certainly, he was talking as if we were still having the same conversation we did when he wrapped my hurt wrist from so long ago.
I sit in the chair and watch him, trying to figure out what happened. His phone buzzes in the drawer, and I pull it out knowing it will be mom. Replying to her, letting her know he’s asleep, I run quickly through the other alerts to see if I can answer any of his friends, but they’re mostly work related, and I leave it to them. My heart stops when I see an alert from Unity.
After checking that he’s asleep, I open the email. I get I’m being sneaky, but it doesn’t stop me from reading. It’s harmless enough—just an update about the academy records giving me permission to attend functions and excursions. I’d assumed Brody was handling these things, and I half-expected him to have already denied everything. Maybe he would have, but for some reason, he hasn’t been included on this one. Triple checking that Dad is still asleep, I take a breath—and then give myself permission to attend every function and excursion Unity has planned.
I nearly ruin everything by making way too much noise when I hit the send button, but my emotions are bubbling up and they’re hard to contain. Excitement mostly at how much freedom and flexibility I just gave myself, shock at how sneaky I was, and a touch of badass thinking of how I beat Brody at his own game. Interestingly, I don’t feel any guilt.
My happiness dips a little when I purposely hide my tracks by burying Unity’s email under a heap of other emails and messages.
I’m still holding the phone when the nurse pushes the door open to check on us. She doesn’t say anything but the look on her face is pretty clear: wake him up or I will. Leaving it in a spot where it’s obvious I’ve been checking his messages for him, I give him another shake. More forceful this time.
“Dad.”
He jumps a country mile when I shake him. And this time when he wakes up, I can easily see he’s more aware. He shuffles up to sitting, and we adjust his bed so he can lean back more comfortably before he reaches for my hand. “Hey, Simmy, when did you get here?”
I burst into tears.
Lawson squeezes my hand, trying to comfort me. “Simona, they said I’m being released today. You remember that, don’t you? I’m fine. I promise you I am not going anywhere. Life is going to go on like normal, nothing will change.”
He gets a watery smile from me. I’m so relieved he’s okay, but the tears are more to do with my devastation that he has no recollection of talking with me only minutes ago.
“Did the doctor come by? I was hoping your mom would be here when he does. I want you here, and Brody. It brings me lots of peace knowing he’s with you, stepping up when I can’t, you know what I mean. But even when you two finally pack, I want you to know you can always talk to me. You know that, Simona?”
I forbid you.
I forbid you.
I forbid you.
Each word Lawson says is like a stab in the chest, while Brody’s command hammers in my head. Once again, I’m caught between one Alpha not remembering and the othermaking it hard for me to forget, and impossible for me to tell the truth.
Lawson doesn’t let go of my hand even when the rest of the family arrives—Brody and his family included. Admittedly, I don’t let go of him either. After some discussion, everyone collectively agrees that Lawson is well enough for me to return to Unity.
Chapter
Thirteen
