Page 100 of Before You Fell

His eyes flash. “No, you don’t have a clue, Phoenix. You don’t know a damn thing. You have no idea what it was like to get that call. No idea what it was like to see my daughter in that bed, so still I thought...”

His voice cracks and it does something to me worse than if he had hit me.

I would rather he hit me.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

The words land pathetic and small. A shitty little bandage slapped over a wound I helped put there.

Graham’s mouth twists. “You’re sorry?”

“Yes.”

“You think sorry gets you any closer to her?”

“No.”

“Then leave.”

“I can’t.”

His face hardens.

I drop the last piece of pride I have and let it hit the floor right here in front of everyone to see whatever is left of me pretending I am not fucking terrified. Let the whole fucking hospital watch the cocky, egotistical rockstar fall apart in a hallway over the girl he was too stupid to love.

“Please.”

Graham stills.

“I know I have no right,” I say, my voice raw. “I am aware of that. I know I hurt her. I’m probably the last person you want near her. I swear to God, if you tell me to get on my fucking knees, I will. If you tell me to leave afterward, I will. But please let me see her.”

Graham stares at me.

“She was dying on a bathroom floor,” he says, each word rougher than the last. “And you want to see her because you feel guilty?”

“No, I want to see her because she’s Willow.”

Graham looks away and when his eyes cut to the guys standing behind me I can feel every inch of how much he fucking hates me.

Fair enough. I hate myself, too.

For a long moment, no one moves.

Elise speaks from behind him, her voice barely audible. “Graham.”

He closes his eyes.

I don’t know what passes between them. Years of marriage, maybe. Years of loving the same daughter. Of knowing what she would want, even when it guts them to give it.

When Graham looks back at me there is no forgiveness on his face.

“You get five minutes,” he says. “If she wakes up and wants you gone, you leave. If I tell you to leave, you leave. If you make one part of this about you, like you always fucking do, I swear to God, Phoenix, I will drag you out of here myself.”

I nod. “I won’t fight you.”

His eyes narrow. It’s possible he’s waiting for the smirk or the smartass comeback. The part where I put my cocky little mouth between me and the truth. A truth that has worked on crowds, women, reporters, cops, my own fucking reflection.

But cockiness never followed me to the hospital. It died somewhere between seeing the headline and realizing I might lose Willow.