Chapter 33
Nicole
The hospital machines beeped rhythmically. I lay stretched out on the wide ER bed in a private room. Dylan and the kids hugged me clumsily. My leg was in a massive cast that ran from my foot all the way up to my thigh.
Broken.
Just like my swollen, crooked nose. The doctors said they’d have to wait a few days until the swelling went down. Surgery couldn’t be rushed—not if they wanted it done right. And they also said they had to get my blood pressure down again, or I’d run the risk of a stroke during surgery.
Brian grabbed my hand the second the kids let go. He still looked like Brian. Broad shoulders. Thick arms. That worn, rugged blue-collar look that came from years of physical work and a naturally handsome face. But he was pale now, eyes rimmed red, jaw clenched tight.
“God … Nicole …” was all he managed before he turned and quickly walked out.
I watched him step into the hallway, hands on his hips, staring down at the floor like he was trying to hold himself upright through sheer force of will.
“Are you sure you don’t need anything?” Dylan asked quietly.
He stood tall next to the bed, holding Ethan’s hand. Ethan was wearing pajamas. Dylan was wearing a hoodie and worn sneakers. His hair fell into his eyes.
“They said they want to keep you overnight,” he added. “And I know you need your pillow to be able to sleep.”
I shook my head and gave him a soft smile. “No. I’ll be fine. Thank you, sweetie.”
“Can I draw on your cast?” Lila asked.
She was wearing mismatched socks and a pink sweatshirt that was inside out. Her eyes were big and wet.
“I can draw us,” she said. “All of us together. So you know we love you.”
“That would be wonderful, honey,” I said softly.
My gaze drifted back to the hallway.
Brian was standing there with Amanda, who had just returned from the cafeteria. Her blond hair fell perfectly around her shoulders. Almost glowing under the harsh hospital lights.
She handed Brian the coffee. He barely looked at it before setting it on a side table. For a moment, they just stood there, like two people waiting to see who would move first.
Amanda stepped toward him and wrapped her arms around him. Brian’s shoulders sagged instantly, and he pulled her into a tight hug. Much tighter than necessary.
Her hand pressed flat between his shoulder blades. She leaned in and murmured something into his ear.
He nodded.
The kids were saying something, but I didn’t hear a word of it. My eyes stayed on the hallway. Nothing about that scene said friends.
It said everything it shouldn’t.
God, I hated him in that moment.
While Lacey was rotting in a cell, this was what he was doing? Of course he claimed the moment. Of course he made himself the one who needed comforting the most. Like he was the one dying of cancer. Like he was the one who’d almost been murdered. Or the one who almost lost his grandma after essentially losing his mother already.
And of course Amanda was right there, holding him like he was fragile. Like something beautiful that couldn’t be allowed to break.
But at least he was sober.
At least he was somewhat of a dad again.
Still, my hands started to shake. I couldn’t tell if it was anger, leftover adrenaline, or the slow, sick realization that nothing was ever going to be simple again.
