Page 49 of Gravity

“Where is Asher?” I ask, wiping my eyes. “Is he with Dad?”

“Your brother is already in the ambulance. Will you two be following us in?”

“Yes. I’ll drive her.”

“Is he okay?” I ask the man looking at me with concern as fresh tears threaten. “My Dad. Will he be okay?”

“He’s in the best hands now.”

What does that mean? Does that mean he’s not going to be okay?

I suddenly feel lost when Grayson leaves my side, and I watch him move around the kitchen, picking things up but not registering what they are. Turning back toward the dining table, I focus on the puzzle pieces that are now scattered everywhere. Dad’s wheelchair sits empty, and the sight of it makes my blood run cold. It’s only been minutes without him, I don’t think I can handle a lifetime.

“I can’t lose him, Grayson,” I whisper, as he comes back to me.

Tucking my hair behind my ears, he tilts my head up to look at him, studying me for a moment as he wipes away my tears. “He is a fighter. He is a soldier. Nothing will change that, and your dad has more strength in him than you know. He’s going to be okay, Nora.”

“You keep saying that.”

“Because I believe it’s true,” he whispers. “And you also have to believe that, too. Your dad won’t want you to be this way. He won’t want you thinking these things either. He’s strong; you need to remember that, okay?”

I nod, knowing he is right. Dad wouldn’t want me to be this way, but it’s hard not to feel anything else right now.

“I can’t hear you,” he whispers.

“Okay. I believe that.”

“Good girl. Now we need to go. I’ve got your phone and everything we need.”

“Don’t leave me, Grayson. Please.” I grip onto his shirt, needing him with me in order to keep me upright. He kisses me on the head and his words soothe my fractured heart as he whispers against my skin.

“I’m right here with you.”

* * *

I can’t remember leaving the house, nor can I remember the drive to the hospital, but somehow, I find myself in a building that smells of antiseptics while men and women in blue and green scrubs rush around beds and patients. Asher says Dad had another seizure on the way here, this one lasting longer than the first, and left him even less responsive afterwards. I feel like we’ve been here hours already, and it’s not even been three. All we can do is wait while they treat him as best as they can.

“Why aren’t they telling us anything. Why hasn’t Mom come back with any news?” Asher asks in frustration, pacing the floor like he’s been doing ever since we got here.

Mom arrived not long after we did. I’d called her on the way here and told her in a fit of rambles and tears what had happened. She amazes me with how calm she is. There hadn’t been an ounce of panic in her voice when she’d said she was leaving work, while I was still a mess, Grayson holding my hand all the way here while he drove.

“She’ll update us when she knows more,” I murmur, completely drained as I look out of the window and watch the world go by.

“These things take time, Ash,” Grayson adds. “Even though it feels like you’re left here waiting or sometimes feel like they’ve forgotten about you altogether. It’s not as long for them as it is for us. You just have to sit it out.”

I look back at Grayson who is sitting in one of the hospital chairs, staring up at the ceiling. His face is pale, and his knee moves up and down anxiously. Being here for Dad and awaiting his prognosis has blinded me to how Grayson must be feeling right now. The last time he was likely to have been here was when his mom died, yet here he is supporting us when he no doubt has a head full of ghosts and a heart too heavy. Needing to give him comfort, I leave my spot at the window and sit beside him, taking his hand in mine.

“Too many memories?” I whisper, already knowing his answer.

When he rolls his head to the side, his once bright blue eyes hold mine with discomfort so prominent it makes my chest even tighter than it already feels.

“More than you can imagine.”

“I’m sorry, Gray. You don’t have to stay with us if this is too uncomfortable. No one will think any less of you.”

He lifts his head and holds my gaze. “I would think less of myself. I said I wouldn’t leave you, Shortcake, and I won’t. What I feel doesn’t matter right now. You and your family are more important than anything else.” He catches the stray tear that slips down my cheek with his thumb and smiles softly, whispering. “No more tears. You need your strength.”

“You are my strength,” I admit. Because it’s true. Asher goes into full-blown panic mode these days when there seems to be a crisis—a reaction that never used to be there. Over time, he’s changed. Pacing the floor is the only thing that seems to give him control over the situation. But with Grayson—even knowing of the heartache he is facing of his past—I wouldn’t be able to function if he wasn’t here.