"No, you certainly aren't," Dad spits.
Mom's voice is tight. "If that's what you want, honey--if that's how you feel, we'll go. But I think you're making a terrible mistake."
"At least it'll bemine."
It's then that I hear my father suck in breath through his teeth--he doubles over, clutching his chest. Grey and I rush to him, but Mom stumbles back, hand pressed to her mouth, frozen. Grey reaches him just before he collapses, pale and gray and sweating. Dad cries out in pain, and Mom wails his name.
When Grey looks at me, my world crashes, crumbling into a million pieces.
"Call 911. I think he's having a heart attack."
CHAPTER 50
HEARTACHE
MOLLY
Everything happened in flashes.
The ambulance, the paramedics, the sirens as they drove away. The silence in the cab of Grey's truck as we rushed behind them to the hospital. The brief, devastated kiss after I told him to go, despite wanting him to stay. The ER chaos of paperwork and questions and my mother falling apart in the seat next to me. Even the hours of waiting felt like they took days and happened in a series of blinks.
It's midnight in Dad's dark hospital room. He looks so small in the hospital bed, tubes and wires slithering out from his gown and to beeping machines. Mom sits next to him in a chair she pulled close, holding his hand, the two of them murmuring to each other through her tears.
The urge to run is so vivid in me, I nearly panic. But I manage to take a breath, find my wits.
"I'm going to go get coffee." My voice sounds wrong in here, too loud, too gentle. "Want any, Mom?"
"That would be great, honey," she says, relieved. She smiles sadly, exhaustion written on her face. Dad looks scared, but he tries to cover it.
I nod, offering a sad smile of my own. "All right. I'll be back."
Once in the hallway, I can breathe easier, though my nerves crackle as my defenses soften. I look for the signs that point to the cafeteria and follow them on wooden feet, texting Grey.
Molly: Hey. Finally got a second. Meet me in the cafeteria?
Grey: Be there in a few.
That loosens the band around my ribs a little more. Everything will be all right once he's here. At least for a little while.
The doctor said he was lucky, that the heart attack could have been worse. They'll monitor him tonight, run more tests in the morning. He might need surgery. He might not. Either way, he can't stay here.
Add it to the list of terrible things that have happened because of me.
Mom begged me to come with them, citing her fear that something will happen to him on the three-hour trip as well as the stress of taking care of him in this state alone at home.
If I hadn't witnessed her come unraveled like she did, I'd say she was trying to manipulate me. But she couldn't even fill out his paperwork. I can't imagine her trying to drive them home, or her state at home, trying to take care of him without any support.
Makes me wonder if it's not me who's helpless, but them.
Once I get to the cafeteria, I get myself and Grey a cup of coffee and sit at an empty table. I have my pick. There's no one here but me and the sleepy cashier. Grey and I have been texting all night, waiting for this, for the time he could come andwe could talk. But really, selfishly, I just want him here. Thank god he wasn't arrested--despite everything, he still has enough respect in town that it wasn't a question. Plus, he went to high school with the cops on duty, and they all apparently hate the asshole who started the whole thing.
When Grey tried to walk away before, I thought he was crazy for thinking he was selfish, but I get it now. Maybe I am naive. Because I couldn't possibly understand what it meant for him to leave to protect me, not until it came to realizing there's only one way I can protect him.
Grey thought he was ruining me, but really he's been the one who has carried the weight of it all, his good standing in the community now tainted by the title of predator. He's the one who has to see the judgment on the faces of the people he's known his whole life. We can say all day that it doesn't matter, but tonight just proved it was all bullshit. It matters. We can't escape it. It's not going to stop. His whole life is here.
Mine's just begun.
It's so unfair, it hurts, the physical pain of it splitting me down the middle, sharp and shocking.
