Page 144 of What About Us

Shit.

I shoot Xander a text, even though he’s still not speaking to me.

Me: My flight is delayed because of the snow. I’m sorry.

Again, he leaves me on read, and I lie here and stare at the ceiling.

“So, what’s worse? The possibility of Xander forgetting about you if he ever has another brain injury? Or the fact that he might just break up with you when he does remember you?”

My stomach is in knots, but I force myself out of bed, and I pad into our bedroom to get dressed.

Since I have extra time today, I call Xander’s dad. I know that Xander’s been keeping track of Greg every day, but after what happened, we’re all worried about him.

“Good morning, pretty girl,” he says when he answers.

“Good morning. Hey, I’m in town today, and I was wondering if you’re up for company this morning?”

“I’ll never turn down your company, Ivy. Why don’t I make us breakfast?”

“That sounds great to me.”

“Come on over, honey.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

I end the call and walk downstairs to find someone in the driveway, plowing snow. I walk out on the porch and wave at them, and then Tucker hops out of his truck and strides over to me.

“Good morning,” he says with a smile.

“Hi. Do you always plow Xander’s driveway?”

He grins and shakes his head. “No, he called me this morning. Told me you were here and he wanted to make sure you could get in and out.”

Oh, my heart.

Even when he’s mad at me, he still looks out for me.

“Thank you. I’m going into town to have breakfast with your dad.”

Tucker’s eyes soften. “You don’t have to⁠—”

“Are you kidding? I love your dad. I asked him to hang out, and he offered breakfast. I couldn’t say no to that.”

He nods and walks back to the truck. “I’m almost done here. Give me just ten more minutes.”

“Thanks, Tucker.”

He waves, and I walk back inside to gather my things and give Cally a scratch.

“I won’t be long, baby.”

I dread leaving her again later tonight.

But rather than dwell on that, I walk out to my truck when I hear Tucker pull away, and I make my way into town. The roads are dicey, so it takes me longer than usual, but I arrive safely, and when I get up to the door, Greg opens it and welcomes me with a big smile and a warm hug.

“This is a fun surprise,” he says as he pats me gently on the back and then gestures for me to join him in the kitchen. “I’m making bacon and eggs with fried potatoes and toast. Well, you get toast.”

“I don’t need toast.”