Page 64 of Break Point

“Hey,” Beth calls. I spin around and rush back to the desk, and her mouth forms a soft smile. “She’s lucky to have a boyfriend like you, is all. I just wanted to tell you that. It’s nice to see young people support each other like this.”

I hold her gaze for a beat, then croak out a thanks before heading back toward the valet circle. It was a simple thing for her to say, but I feel lighter hearing it. I guess I needed the affirmation that I’m doing the right things.

My sister’s bimmer rolls into the valet entrance within minutes. My palms began sweating the moment Amelia left to pick Jaden’s parents up, so I wipe them on the front of my sweatshirt as Amelia’s car slows to a stop. I pull the passenger door open and roll my shoulders back with my deep breath.

“Bryson?” A very tall, redheaded man with a neatly trimmed mustache and beard steps up on the curb, holding a hand out. I shake it, and when he covers the other side of my hand with a warm squeeze, I tremble a bit, letting out a nervous, breathy laugh.

“It’s really nice to meet you, sir. I kind of hoped it would have been over dinner or something,” I say, shrugging a shoulder.

His warm smile pushes into his cheeks, and I see his daughter in his features.

“Oh, I’m sure there’s a great cafeteria here. We’ll work in a dinner, no doubt,” he jokes.

We both laugh softly, and he lets go of my hand.

“Call me Patrick, by the way. And this is Daria.” He holds out an arm, gesturing toward the back of the vehicle, where a woman about Jaden’s height with blond hair pulled into a tight braid is wrangling a giant suitcase from the back of my sister’s car.

“Let me,” I say, moving in to help.

Daria steps back while I plop the giant purple suitcase onto the walkway and lift the handle for her. It lands with quite the thud.

“She was afraid we might need to be here awhile. That’s her entire closet in that thing.” Patrick waves toward the suitcase. I catch the sharp glare from his wife, and she looks so much like her daughter with that expression. I see where Jaden gets her fire.

My sister finishes with the valet and rushes to join us just as Daria begins to roll her luggage toward the main door.

“If you need anything extra to wear, I’m sure I can get you some Cordon Football gear.” That would amuse the hell out of Jaden, I’m sure. Me sending her father in wearing football fanwear.

“Good to know. There wasn’t much room left for my things in that suitcase,” he says, earning him another pointed look from his wife as she makes a hard stop just inside the hospital doors.

“The front desk knows you’re here. She probably has some forms ready for you,” I say, motioning toward Beth. “I’ll watch the mobile closet.” Patrick is amused by my quip, but Daria is all business, and now I’ve earned one of her glares. It’s probably not the time to make jokes. I wheel the suitcase to the corner of the room I’ve commandeered as my own.

Amelia and I both sink into our seats while Jaden’s parents work through a few forms, then head back to see their daughter. I shake a bit, and my sister’s hand finds my back again.

“It’s like I want to cry, but I can’t. Is that weird?” I swivel my head to face her.

“Not at all. You love her.” She shrugs and offers a simple smile. I can’t protest either, because she’s right. I do.

I manage to sit in one place and not bother Beth for thirty minutes. Finally, Patrick enters the waiting room, and I practically leap to my feet to get to him. I take in every context clue I can before he speaks—his eyes are dry and not red, he isn’t frowning, but he’s also not smiling, and he’s standing tall.

“They want to run some more tests, but they did an EEG. They think she has epilepsy.” That stoic face he came out wearing fractures a bit, his mouth growing heavier on the corners.

I nod, taking in his words and mashing them with my very thin medical knowledge. I wish I were in grad school already so I could offer more reassurance. As it is, all I can do is nod and say, “Okay.”

“She’d like to see you,” he says, and his smile picks back up a hint.

I reflect it with my own.

“I’ve been dying out here,” I breathe out, my lips flapping.

“He has,” Beth moans. We both glance her way as she waves and shrugs.

Patrick chuckles, then swings an arm around my shoulders, looking to Beth for permission. She nods and buzzes the door open.

“Tell her I have anything she needs,” Amelia calls out.

I nod, then turn back toward the long hallway ahead. Jaden’s room is at the very end, and I’m greeted by constant beeps from her monitor the moment I step inside. Her eyes blink slowly as she meets my gaze. Her mouth curves up a tick, but only for a moment.

“Hi,” she hums, reaching out a hand, the oximeter clamped on her finger and an IV filling her with fluids.