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“I’m trying to decide if I even care anymore,” I say as I bring my glass to my lips.

“I hear you, Hon, but what the hell are you gonna do if you leave the paper?”

“And that right there is why I haven’t sent it in yet.”

She sighs and looks back to the computer for a second. “You know what, you’ll find something. And if you quit or he fires you, you’ll get scooped up quick.”

I set my glass down and spin the stem between my fingers, focusing on the reflection of the glass on the table. “You really think I should do this?”

“Do you want to write something else?” she asks, arching a brow, and I know she already knows the answer to that. Even if I tried, I don’t think I could. I’ve never lied to my readers, and I’m not going to start now.

“No.”

“Then what other choice do you have?”

Taking a deep breath, I push the glass away and pull my computer toward me. With shaky hands, I pull up my email and quickly send the article off to my boss. After I push send, I grab my glass of wine again and drain it.

“I’m proud of you, Ali,” Carly says, and I smile at her. “It’s disgusting that he even suggested this for the two of you. Even at her best, Chelsea isn’t half the writer that you are, and she shouldn’t even be in the running for the job.”

“Yeah, but you know why she is, right?” I ask, making a motion with my hand and mouth that gets the message across. Carly nods, and they both start laughing.

“Man, if I realized that was all it took, I would have become a partner years ago,” Izzy says, referring to her job as a paralegal at a law office downtown, and we all laugh again.

“Maybe I should just quit,” I say, feeling a little bolder than I did moments ago.

“And do what?” Izzy asks.

“I don’t know what I want to do, I just know that I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“If it’s meant to be,” Carly says, quoting the article I just sent in, and I smile as I roll my eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Chapter Four

Storm

I fucking hate hospitals.

My boots squeak on the linoleum floor as I stare down the hallway and make my way to her room, doing my best to push back the deluge of memories frantically trying to take over my mind. After that night, I swore I would never be back here, but for her, I would do just about anything. Everything about this place haunts me, from the sound of monitors beeping and loved ones crying to the smell of antiseptic. Each little thing like a demon hiding in the shadows, laying in wait to reach out and pull me back into that night and everything I lost.

The memories start to overwhelm me, and I have to stop, leaning back against the wall, and closing my eyes as I try to pull air into my body. Flashes of images, like a horror movie, roll through my brain, and I lean over, squeezing my eyes shut tighter like that might make them stop as I fist my hands on my knees.

“Sir, are you okay?” someone asks, and I snap back up into a standing position. The only thing worse than losing my shit is someone watching me do it. The woman in blue scrubs standing behind the nurses’ station offers me a reassuring smile, and I clear my throat.

“Can you tell me which room Emma West is in?” I ask, and she nods, looking down at her computer.

“Are you family?”

“Yes,” I answer without hesitation.

She looks up and smiles at me, her gaze trailing down my body. “Room 116.”

“Thanks.”

The sign at the end of the hallway instructs me to go left, and I walk off without another word, ready to see Emma and the babies so I can get the fuck out of here. I love that girl but I don’t want to spend more time than I have to in this place. Once I find her room, I pause, taking a deep breath to push all my shit back down before I walk in there to see her. Emma’s got eyes like a hawk, and if I go in there even a little bit upset, she’ll fucking know it.

When I feel in control, I push the door open and close it quietly behind me. Emma’s in the bed with a little bundle in each arm, and when I walk in, she looks up and grins at me. Nix is passed out in the chair next to her bed, his arms crossed over his chest, and his legs kicked out in front of him. I grimace at the awkward angle his neck is bent in, glad that I’m not him. That’s gonna be one hell of a headache when he wakes up.