“One of those wilderness trips with Oliver. We fell into a river, and I hit my shoulder on a rock.”
“Did he put it back for you?”
Theo huffs before a groan escapes him and slams his hand against his temple, fighting the growing pain of a headache. “You aren’t getting the right idea about those trips. It was acompetition between us. Whoever got out first and back to the helicopter would be rewarded.”
She squints, disbelieving. Then she slides her palm into his before he can hurt himself trying to cancel out one pain with another. She doesn’t comment on it or make a fuss. It’s no secret what’s happening, so she simply tries to let him leech some comfort off her, however he can, while trying to prevent further injury. “We don’t have to talk if you need it quiet.”
He squeezes her hand hard enough to betray how bad the pain is. “It’s not the sound, it’s the stress. It’ll go away when I calm down. Usually. Mostly…”
“So he…left you? Out there alone with a dislocated shoulder?”
“Oh yeah. Absolutely. And our father rewarded him for his perseverance before sending a team to fetch me from the riverbank, where I was throwing up blood and contaminated water. It was the only time I had to be retrieved. I never let that happen again. This was when the migraines started. The doctors said I must have slammed my head into something and knocked things around. Haven’t been right since.”
“Yeah, I definitely wasn’t getting the full picture when it comes to those trips. I’m starting to understand a little more why you’re a disgruntled member of the family now.” Nora pauses, her voice softer. “What about your mother? Was she on board for this nonsense, too?”
“She passed when I was much younger.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
He lets out a defeated sigh, nodding slightly toward her. “Which one hurt your shoulder?”
“The first one.”
“Did husband number two make the same mistakes the first one did?”
“No. We only hurt each other emotionally, not physically.”
“Tell me about that one?”
She winces. “Now? That’s not exactly soothing conversation.”
He shrugs without thinking and goes even paler at the ache in his shoulder.. “No better time than the present, right?I wanna know you. I want to know everything you’ll tell me.”
The way her face breaks the moment those words leave his mouth surprises her and maybe even him, but a second near-death experience seems to have done something to make him bolder and he doesn’t take it back. Doesn’t give her an out or make a joke. That’s fine by her because much as he wants to know, she wants to share. Isn’t that some bullshit that’ll only get her in even more trouble, she thinks.
“Finn and I met at grief counseling.” She snorts at her own words. “Sounds ridiculous when I say it. You’re not supposed to pick up dates there. He lost his wife, and I lost my daughter. We used to go to the coffee station at the same time, and one thing led to another…”
“Must have been some amazing coffee.”
She cuts him an amused glare.
“Anyway, we got along so well right off the bat. He was kind to me and that’s really all it took. I didn’t want to be alone. It was easy enough, and I could convince myself that I was happy, but…”
He doesn’t prompt for more, only waits until she gets there, and she may as well rip the band-aid off now.
“It was difficult to open up to him for some reason. He took that personally, kept saying I didn’t trust him, which wasn’t true, but we fought a lot about how closed off I was. About how I never let him in. I think maybe I didn’t share much because when I did, when he found out about my addiction, I could see the judgment in his eyes, as if I chose that when nothing could be further from the truth. He never said anything like that, of course. Never outright called me a waste of space who couldn’t turn away froma hit, but I felt it. So I kept a lot in. And then he cheated on me, claiming he had no choice because I wascold and emotionally unavailable.”
“Oh fuck,” Theo fixes her with as much sympathy as he can muster in a face filled with agony. “What an asshole. I um, I’m starting to understand your reaction to my tabloid scandal.”
“You’re not him. It’s not the same, even if my brain wants to tangle it up. Plus, I never saw the same amount of disgust in your eyes when you found out I went to rehab, so there’s that.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“A lot of things were my fault. But not that, you’re right.” Their conversation is interrupted by his sharp inhale and his struggle to release her hand so he can push his skull back together. “Hey, hey, easy. Breathe slower, in and out, with me.”
He tries to mimic her breathing pattern, but she can tell it’s a struggle. She feels useless here at his side with no way to help other than to be with him, which is more than inadequate.
“I think I’m damn lucky I met you,” he grinds out, clutching her hand in a hard grip.
