Page 77 of Weight of Guilt

Her gaze met his one last time. “Thank you. For all of it.”

“Any time.”

Then she was gone through the door with her sister.

Chapter

Thirty-Eight

Wren’s dad still had on his blue polo from work when she spotted him in the waiting room. His hair had gone even grayer since Wren had last seen him six months ago, and he’d lost weight he didn’t need to lose.

He’d always been on the shorter side, but when Wren was growing up he’d seemed bigger than he was. His gregarious personality helped with that.

But he wasn’t so gregarious lately. He hadn’t been in a long time.

He stared as if unsure what to say.

And her dad had always known what to say.

Wren’s mother stood—Wren wasn’t sure when she’d left Christian’s side. Mom locked eyes with Dad, and neither said anything for a moment.

Wren didn’t know when the two of them had last seen each other. The divorce had been ugly. Really ugly.

“Where is he?” His voice came out rough, and Wren noticed then that his eyes were red.

“They’re finishing his discharge papers,” Nora said.

“Discharge,” he repeated. “So he’s all right?”

“All things considered, he’s doing pretty well,” Nora told him.

Dad’s jaw tensed then loosened as his eyes traveled back and forth. They briefly skimmed over Nash, who’d joined them a few minutes ago. But Dad didn’t ask who Nash was.

“When did Christian come back?” Dad asked.

“Saturday morning.” Wren knew how the words would probably be received, and she braced herself for his reaction.

“Saturday?” He looked at each of them. “It’s Sunday night.”

“I know,” Wren murmured.

“And I’m just hearing about his return now?” His voice rose.

“A lot of things were still unclear,” Nora explained. “We didn’t . . . we didn’t know if it was really Christian. We didn’t want to get anyone worked up if it turned out to be a really bad joke or a mistake. There was so much we were unsure about.”

“Of course, it’s him!” His voice climbed. “You all saw him with your own eyes, didn’t you? It’s Christian! God has finally answered our prayers!”

He threw his head back, tears streaming down his cheeks. Then he squeezed the skin between his eyes as if he was having a spiritual encounter.

Just then, the door down the corridor opened and Christian was wheeled through it, a nurse behind him.

Dad crossed the corridor faster than Wren thought possible and stopped a foot short of his son.

Christian stared up at him and blinked as if he didn’t trust his own eyes. Then he said, “Dad?”

That was all it took.

Dad lunged forward and threw his arms around him.