Her shoulders sink.
“Okay. Thanks anyway.” There’s another beat of silence. “No, I get it, Becky—the kids come first.”
She ends the call and immediately opens another contact.
“Hi. Sorry to bother you.”
Another pause.
“Could you cover my shift for me tonight? I’ll take your weekend.”
A tired smile.
“Thanks for checking.”
She ends the call and starts another.
And another.
I watch her willing to burn through every favor she’s got without complaining once, rubbing her neck between calls but never giving up until she releases a quietly muttered,fuck.
God, I love her.
But my grandmother isn’t her responsibility.
She turns and finds me.
Hot tears cling to her lashes.
I open my arms and she steps into them without hesitation.
With her folded against my chest, I press a kiss to the top of her head.
“No luck,” she mutters.
“You were trying to cover your shift.”
“I want to be here for you.”
My eyes close, and I fight the swelling feeling in my throat.
I believe her.
She wants to be here not because she has to, but because she wants to.
I’ve carried everything alone for so long that it still catches me off guard when someone stays.
Especially when they have every reason not to.
I tighten my arms around her. “Thank you.”
Neither of us moves as things move around us. A nurse skirts around us. There’s a page over the intercom. Everything moves on like the world isn’t shifting beneath my feet.
Aspen eventually tips her head back.
“I’ll figure something out.”
She will, because that’s exactly who she is.
