I end the phone call and exhale heavily. I plonk onto the edge of the bed and rest my forehead in my palms. Listening to the shower running, I try to focus on the boy who needs me, instead of spiraling with heavy thoughts.
When the water turns off, I force myself to breathe slower, but it only causes me to sweat. The more I try to compose myself, the more worked up I get.
“Are you okay?” Dax asks, entering the room in the new T-shirt and sweatpants.
I force a smile. “You’re booked in tomorrow at four p.m.”
Dax tilts his head. “You don’t look happy about it.”
“No, I’m okay. The nurses just sounded like they needed help.”
“Do you want to go over there?”
Sadness droops my shoulders. “No. I want to stay here and make sure you’re okay.”
Dax bends at the knees and scoops me into his arms. “You’re feeling guilty.”
“My mother would be so disappointed in me. I can hear her voice in my head, telling me I’m dishonoring my commitments.”
“Hey, hey,” he whispers, stroking my hair. “Your mother left her family commitments behind. She’s not exactly a role model.”
I lay my head on his chest, and a weight slips off me. “Thanks. I needed to hear that.”
“I saw those nurses praising you,” Dax says. “They also told you to make the most out of your free time. Yes, they appreciate all you do for them, but they also want you to have fun.”
“Fun isn’t a priority.”
Dax playfully knocks on my head. “Hello? Vanessa’s mother, get out of her head.”
I giggle and hug my arms around his waist. “At least the hospital has been a good cover to get my friends off my back. The little white lie has allowed me to be with you instead.”
“Hmm. Maybe you are a bad girl,” Dax jokes.
“I can’t help that you’re my addiction.”
Nineteen
Justlikelastnightwhen Murphy organized our dinner, I called him again this morning for a pool house breakfast delivery. I didn’t say either time who the second plate was for, and he’s too good at his job to ask. Staff have clear instructions to leave the dishes in the living area and not to enter further into the house.
Last night was rough. Dax tossed and turned. He even moaned in his sleep. It was hard to tell whether it was pain or bad dreams. I guessed both. I’d stroke his forehead and kiss his cheek until he settled. Because I couldn’t tell if he was okay, I barely slept.
I let him sleep late, and the midday arrival of crispy bacon, fried tomatoes, and poached eggs stirs him awake.
“Hungry?” I ask, smiling at his scrunched expression as he stretches his arms out.
He blinks a few times, waking up. “Is that food?”
“Yes. Do you want me to bring it in here?”
He shakes his head, sitting up. “No, we can go out there. I haven’t even seen the pool in the daylight.”
“There’s a nice view of it from the comfy couches in the living room.”
“Is your family still here?”
“No. Ash will be at school, and Dad will be at work.”
“Okay, good. I’m not in the mood to look over my shoulder all morning.”
