Page 59 of The Hometown Heartbreaker

Gio shrugged, a gesture that was meant to convey uncertainty, but I read something darker in his eyes. “He needs to transition to a rehab facility. He can’t go home like this, Sadie. He’d be back here in a week.”

I let the words settle, their weight filling my lungs until it was hard to breathe. “Have you told him that?”

He hesitated, then shook his head. “Every time I bring it up, he says he’s discharging himself and then starts listing all the chores he needs to do. He’s stubborn even when he can’t stand up without help.”

“Sounds about right.” I laughed, but it came out too thin, more like a leak than a release. “I’ll talk to him. Again. He won’t listen, but I’ll talk to him.”

Gio looked sympathetic. He stuffed the wrapper of his protein bar into his pocket and started to walk away, but paused. “Hey, do you know if Dawson is around tonight? I’ve been messaging him, but he’s not getting back to me.”

I blinked, momentarily thrown by the shift. “I’m not sure. Why?”

Gio shrugged, his eyes doing that thing where they flicker with a thousand unspoken thoughts before he settles on the most innocuous version. “Just need to catch up with him about something. No big deal.” He started to walk away, then stopped and turned back. “If you need to talk, you know where to find me.”

I nodded, and he disappeared around the corner, leaving me alone with the whirring of the air ducts and the faraway sound of a heart monitor alarm.

For a few seconds, I just stood there, staring at the pattern of scuffs on the floor. Then I steeled myself and pushed open the door to Buddy’s room.

He was awake this time, eyes half-open and roaming the ceiling as if searching for the answer to a question he couldn’t quite remember. He turned his head and saw me, and something like a smile crept across his face.

“Hey there, city girl,” he rasped.

I moved to the blue vinyl chair and sat, feeling the edge of the seat dig into the backs of my thighs. “You’re awake. Good. You missed your morning gruel.”

He made a face. “They’re trying to starve us to death in this place. Never thought I’d miss hospital Jell-O.”

Buddy needed to up his protein and fiber, so the nurses had stopped giving him Jell-O until he ate his oatmeal and regular food.

I smiled and set my phone on the tray table. “You want me to sneak you in a cheeseburger? I could do it. I have connections.”

His eyes twinkled, but his hands trembled as he tried to adjust his blanket. “Maybe later. Got to get my strength up if I’m going to bust out of here.”

I reached over and helped tuck the blanket around his shoulders. “You know you’re not going anywhere until the doctors say so.”

He grunted, clearly unconvinced. “Doctors don’t know everything. Sometimes you got to listen to your gut.”

I let that pass, because I knew better than to argue with him when he was this tired and grumpy. Instead, I busied myself with the crossword, flipping it open and pretending to care about the clues. We sat like that for a while, the silence companionable rather than oppressive.

Eventually, he spoke again, voice softer this time. “Who was that on the phone that you had to sneak off into the hallway?”

I hadn’t expected him to notice. I tried to play it off. “Just work stuff. Nothing important.”

He gave me a look that could have peeled paint. “Sadie Rose, you’re a terrible liar.”

I hesitated, then decided there was no point in hiding it. “My assistant. Well, my former assistant. I’m handing off my clients to her. I’m…out of the game. For now.”

He closed his eyes and drifted for a minute, the lines on his face relaxing. When he spoke again, his words were thick, like he was talking through a dream. “That got anything to do with the Lockhart boy?”

“Dawson?” I questioned. “No, my plans don’t have anything to do with Dawson.”

“Really? Cause I heard he was sniffin’ around ya again.”

Of course he heard. It was Valentine Bay, I wouldn’t be surprised if he heard what I had for breakfast. I felt my own body tense, not sure of where this was going, especially since he’d hidden the letters from me. I picked at the seam of my jeans, hoping he wouldn’t press.

He did, of course. “You pickin’ up with him again?”

I hesitated. Technically, I was. But also, not. It was more complicated than that, a shifting constellation of unfinished business and old wounds. “We’ve been…spending some time together. I’m staying at the ranch, Selma insisted.”

I wasn’t sure why I’d thrown that in. Dawson’s mom had insisted, but I was a grown woman. I could stay wherever I wanted to on my own accord.