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In a moment of crisis, I would’ve wanted us closer than ever. Instead, it felt like the opposite. We were falling apart. Our tightly knit dynamic was unraveling and spitting out fragments of whatever we were on our own.
Tomorrow was going to be brutal. The doctor had said they’d do one more checkup on Lucian “around seven,” after the shift change, so I’d be there then to pick him up. I’d have to call the office and let them know I was taking a day off. Maybe Noa would come with me; I couldn’t foresee him heading to work. And we’d tell Lucian that Cam was in Winchester…
Somewhere around there, I would need my two-hour workout as well. I usually did that early, before work?—
“After we pick up Uncle Lucian tomorrow, can you drop me off at the grocery store, Daddy?” Noa asked. “I’m gonna buy him carrots and broccoli, and then I’m gonna throw out everything we have in the kitchen.”
I lifted my brows and eyed him in the rearview. I didn’t like the look on his face one fucking bit. He wasn’t joking. That was his plan.
“I’m gonna look up recipes for him,” he finished and brought out his phone.
I flicked a glance at Cam, who side-eyed Noa and chewed on the inside of his cheek.
Everyone knew Noa and I were useless in the kitchen. Lucian wasn’t much better. Cooking was part of Cam’s servitude.
“You don’t have to do that,” Cam said quietly.
“Clearly, I do,” Noa replied. “It’s not like you’ll be there.”
Jesus.
“Noa.” I shot him a stern look in the rearview.
“What?” He glared back, all while Cam averted his gaze and teared up. “We have to be there for Lucian, and Cameron’s all?—”
“We have to be there for Cam as well,” I told him. “You, of all people, know what it’s like to have a loved one throwing out empty promises.” I’d had front-row seats to that shitshow for twelve damn years. Every time Christine had left rehab or whatever treatment program, she’d promised Noa things were going to change.
The last several years of our sham of a marriage, I hadn’t been able to leave because I couldn’t abandon Noa. Which was ironic, considering I’d left like a fucking coward when everything had fallen apart—and I got it. I understood Noa had abandonment issues, but that wasn’t what Cam was doing now. He wasn’t leaving us. He was taking a much-needed breather to regain his footing.
My words struck Noa hard; that much was clear from his expression. He turned to look out the window, and he wiped at his cheeks each time tears rolled down.
I clenched my jaw and forced myself to finish my coffee. It slid down with a nice helping of guilt—but I just couldn’t handle them having a falling-out tonight.
“We gotta get through this together, boys,” I said, checking my sideview mirror. Was that idiot gonna pass me or not? He’d been up my ass the past mile. “Now’s not the time to pick fights and get defensive. If you need to blame someone, look to the man in the hospital who’s currently having sex dreams about Ativan.”
Noa made a noise, a pinch of humor mingled with his hurt. “Great. Let’s blame the guy who almost died.” Maybe the last word made things too real because he crumpled and covered his face with his hands. “At least you tried to help him. I kept bringing him pizza and burgers!”
Aw, fuck.
“Freckles, we covered this,” I murmured. “This is not your fault. Lucian’s been putting too much pressure on himself since before you were born.”
Cam removed his seat belt and slid over to the middle seat, and he wrapped his arms around Noa. A sight that brought me a ton of relief.
“He made promises to you too, Noa,” Cam said quietly. “You just wanted to make him happy, and he kept saying he was fine. You had no reason not to trust him.”
I took a deep breath and allowed myself all the comfort in knowing that the boys were still solid. They hugged each other, comforted one another, wiped each other’s tears, and alternated between totally blaming Lucian for everything and missing him and wanting to nurse him back to health.
With the number of men in our relationship, I didn’t see any reason as to why Lucian wouldn’t receive all kinds of reactions after tomorrow. We’d fuss over him, we’d pamper and spoil him, we’d put our fucking feet down, we’d yell if we had to…
I furrowed my brow. We’d have to create some sort of balance so that we didn’t give him whiplash with the various extremes of our moods. For as long as Cam was cautious, I’d be the cushion. Noa would always jump from one mood to the next—and showcase it—but Lucian was going to need stability and peace in his recovery.
* * *
A little past midnight, we finally drove up the long dirt road to Greer’s farm. It wasn’t long ago we’d been here. Sloan had fixed an oil leak in Lucian’s Jag. Noa had tried to help Corey rake up dead leaves in the yard. Cam and Archie had baked together.
It was a homey place. The house had left me with a feeling I couldn’t say I got from our home, which Cam and I had talked about briefly. He kind of wanted to make some changes around the house, and considering I knew fuck-all about interior design, I’d said go for it. As long as my indoor pool area went untouched.
When Lucian and I had bought our house, the last thing on our minds had been colors and materials. I’d fixed my attention solely on the pool since it would be my personal workout station two hours every day, and Lucian had hired people to make the kitchen wheelchair-friendly. We’d had the kitchen island removed, mainly.
