Page 37 of Endless Depths

Daddy?

Morgan

Call me that again, and I’ll kick you from the group chat.

ELEVEN

Cole

ONE MONTH AFTER THE ACCIDENT

Morgan unbuckleshis seatbelt and turns to me. “Alright, Sunshine. Are you ready?”

I shrug. Even with all the pain meds coursing through my veins, the ride home from the hospital was excruciating. I clenched the armrest and gritted my teeth with every bump and turn. Getting down from the truck and into the wheelchair will be equally excruciating.

He strokes my hair, and kisses my temple. “I know you’re in pain. I know you hate losing your independence, but you will get better.”

I smile so he doesn’t feel bad, but I would have rather died. Not that I had a choice in the matter. I don’t resent him for saving me. Well, I resent him a little. I’d have done the same thing though, and how was he supposed to know that I’d made peace with dying? It just feels like I’m only alive for him.

Morgan opens the door, and I shiver as an icy breeze slips into the truck. He disappears into the dismal drizzle, gets the wheelchair out of the back seat, then opens my door for me.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.” I can bear a little weight now, but I can’t manageclimbing out of the truck, so when he bends closer, I hook my hands around the back of his neck.

Pain shoots out from my lower back and hips as he scoops me up. A cold sweat breaks out on my skin, and I feel like I’m going to be sick. But I don’t gasp, or groan, or scream. I tuck my pain away inside, and clamp my mouth shut. The only control I have right now is how I react.

“I’m sorry,” Morgan whispers as he lowers me into the chair.

“It’s okay.” Shards of glass tear through my tailbone as I settle into the chair, but I don’t make a sound.

Returning to the old red brick building that houses our loft is an uncanny experience. The peelingMarine Supplysign original to the historical building remains unchanged, and the timeless lobby still smells like old wood and dust. Morgan’s footsteps echo on the wide plank wood floors exactly the way they always have, but everythinghaschanged.

While we wait for the elevator, Morgan bends and cups my cheek, tears glazing his vision. “I never thought I’d bring you home again.”

“I’m sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you.”

“Sweetheart, you didn’t cause it. The pain I’ve suffered is nothing compared to when I thought I lost you. I’ll gladly suffer through whatever heartache it takes to make you happy.”

“It doesn’t make me happy if you’re hurting.”

He cups my other cheek, framing my face, then kisses my forehead. “I’m not hurting. I’m healed. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” I smile. Not all the way. I haven’t been able to smile since Seb died. I shouldn’t be allowed to smile.

At first, the loft itself feels just as much a time capsule as the rest of the building, but the longer I look, the more changes I find. The plants on the oversized windowsill are surprisingly healthy, still in the same places I left them, but rotated slightly as if to give each leaf a chance to feel the sun’s warmth. It smells clean inside, but astringently so, instead of the light scent of clove and mandarin from the cleaner I prefer.

Even so, it’s nice to be home where the lighting is soft, and the sheets aren’t starched, and no staff members will intrude on my privacy.

Morgan locks the door. “Do you want to try the walker?”

“Maybe tomorrow. Today was a lot.”

“That’s probably a good idea, but if you change your mind, let me know.”

“Thanks, babe.”

He wheels me deeper into the room. A wedge pillow rests against the headboard on my side, and the covers are already pulled back. An insulated straw tumbler and a basket of snacks are neatly positioned on the bedside table. My attention snags on the little forest of house plants again.