Cam looks relaxed in chino shorts, a fitted tee, and white sneakers. Neither of us remembered to pack sunglasses in our mad rush, so we’re donning cheap gas station frames. While he drives, I text Tyler:On my way to Palm Springs. Thank you again.
The iconic palm-lined streets aren’t as glamorous when one’s mother is in rehab on the other side. We pull up to the front of Desert Haven Recovery Oasis. At first glance, the vibe is far moreluxury resort and spa than inpatient facility, especially when the valet greets us.
On the drive over, I researched a more affordable center closer to my mom’s house, but because of poor reception, I couldn’t get through to reserve a spot. Now that we’re here and the service has improved, I’ll try again. First, though, I need to see my mom. She may not agree to it.
We’re hit with a burst of cool air as we pass through the automatic doors. Just inside, I stumble to a halt. Because my ex is sitting on a sofa in the lobby. He promptly rises when he catches motion at the door and strides my way.
“Hi.” I give him a curt nod.
Cam steps closer to my side in solidarity.
“Hey, Beck.” Tyler gives me a crooked smile. His button-down is buttoned a little too down, giving me a clear view of the tattoos on his chest. What was onceJosefineis now a field of pine trees. “It’s good to see you.”
I’m not sure how to reply. I’m definitely not delighted to see him, but he did pick up my mom from the hospital and drive two hours to bring her here.
I don’t waste time on superficial politeness, but I do offer my gratitude. “Thank you for your help last night.”
Why is he still here?
His eyes linger on me a little too long, and when he finally glances at Cam, he nods in his direction and scowls. “Who’s this guy?”
Looping my pinkie with Cam’s, I say, “This is Cameron. My”—oh what the hell—“boyfriend.”
He wraps my hand in his and squeezes.
It’s the first time I’ve said the word aloud, but dang, if it doesn’t feel right. Maybe introducing my new boyfriend to my ex-boyfriend isn’t the best way to declare my feelings, but I refuse to tiptoe around them anymore.
Tyler crosses his arms at the same time Cam extends his for a handshake.
“I’m going to see what I can find out about my mom,” I say, attempting to break the tension, but the guys don’t take their eyes off each other.
Ignoring the little puffing-of-the-chests ritual, I approach the woman behind the desk and present my ID.
“Hi, my mother, Elin Beckham, was brought here last night,er,this morning,” I correct myself. “I’d like to check her out, actually.”
“Oh?” Behind her wide-frame glasses, the woman’s brows raise and her eyes widen.
“Yes. If you could just bill me for one night, I can pay now.” I brace myself for the cost.
The woman, Dahlia, according to her name tag, is silent as she turns to her computer. Only the soft click of her nails on the keyboard can be heard. That, and two men huffing down my neck.
“It looks like the bill has been taken care of, Ms. Beckham,” Dahlia says.
“What? I haven’t even seen a bill yet.”
She peers up at me. “According to our records, the cost of a thirty-day stay for your mother has been paid.”
Dumbfounded, all I can do is gape at her for a moment. “And my mom agreed to this?”
“Yes,” she confirms. “I can have someone bring you to her now if you’d like.”
I nod, then turn to the two men behind me.
“How?” I choke out, turning to Tyler, who must have covered the cost. “Did you—” I’m so shocked I can’t form the words.
With a tilt of his head, he shrugs.
“I can’t—I don’t—” I stutter. “I can’t pay you back right now, but I promiseI will.”
