I know Oliver and Misha love him too.
And Morgan.
… I do too.
“Grey loves big, and he needs someone who loves him as much as he loves them,” Mr. Donovan continues. “Who can handle his past. He has his friends, and I’m grateful for that. But he needs someone special, someone who will always have his back, someone he can be vulnerable with. He’s always the strong one for them. I’m the only one he allows himself to be weak with. I need to know that he can be weak with you when I’m not there anymore to allow him a break from being strong.”
Tears blur my vision as I hear the unspoken plea. “I will be strong for him so he can be weak,” I promise.
“Do you love him, Amelia?” Mr. Donovan asks, his gaze penetrating as if the answer to the question is the key to everything.
“I do,” I whisper, the words barely making it past the lump in my throat. “I love all three of them more than anything else.”
Mr. Donovan’s face softens into a gentle smile, one filled with relief and peace. He squeezes my hand again, this time with alittle more strength. “That’s all I needed to hear,” he says softly. “Knowing that you love him back makes all the difference.”
With one final squeeze, he releases my hand and leans back against the pillows, a contented sigh escaping his lips. “Go on now,” he says, the faint smile still playing on his lips. “He’ll be waiting.”
I nod, blinking away the tears as I stand slowly, taking one last look at him. His eyes are already closing in exhaustion, but there’s a sense of calm about him that reassures me everything will be okay.
Walking out of the room, I find Grey waiting just outside, his anxious eyes searching mine. I reach out and take his hand. “He’s okay,” I whisper, and for the first time since yesterday, Grey’s shoulders relax just a little. “He just wanted to make sure I’ll look after you.”
Grey pulls me closer, kissing my forehead. “You’d do that?” he questions, smiling against my skin.
“I would do anything for you,” I answer truthfully, hugging him to me.
“Really?” Grey chuckles, “How about three meals a day and a regular sleep schedule?”
Fuck.
I pause. “Anything within the realm of possibilities.”
Grey chuckles as he lets go of me and takes my hand again.
We walk farther down the hallway, spotting Oliver and Misha waiting by the exit. Misha catches sight of us, and without a word, he extends his hand, fingers wiggling in an exaggerated invitation. I smile and take his hand in my free one, feeling the warmth of his fingers as they curl around mine.
“Of course, try to steal my girl.” Grey snorts softly beside me, shaking his head at Misha’s antics, but I catch the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
“I’m stealingourgirl,” Misha throws a glance at him, his smirk widening.
Their girl.
I smile at Oliver, who’s already smiling at me.
We make our way back to the Tesla and get in, the atmosphere growing somber again. The engine purrs to life, and Grey pulls out of the hospital parking lot. In the silence of the car, it seems we are all at a loss for words but then my stomach growls, making all three of them laugh.
One way to break the tension.
A quick glance at the clock tells me that it is indeed dinnertime.
“I’ll cook something when we get back,” Grey offers, his voice tinged with fatigue, but still he carries that unwavering sense of responsibility.
I glance at him from the passenger seat, noting the tired lines etched into his face. “How about we order something instead?”
Grey opens his mouth to protest, but then he catches the look on my face and sighs, relenting. “All right. But no pizza,” he concedes.
Misha leans forward from the back seat, resting his chin on the edge of Grey’s seat. “How about we get some Pho? There’s that place near Pike Place Market that delivers, and their broth is basically magic.”
Oliver nods in agreement. “Sounds perfect.”
