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“I got here as quick as I could,” he said. Considering Big Sky was four hours away, I was surprised he was here at all. I glanced at Viv and she gave me a small smile.

“I called him. I called Mom and Dad too, but they didn’t answer.” It was the middle of the night on the East Coast. They might return her call in the morning, but likely they wouldn’t. I didn’t feel like calling them myself. I couldn’t stand the cold distance of my parents right now.

I needed the warmth of the family that was always there for me, no strings attached.

Eric walked over to us. “How was she?”

“Sleeping.” My voice was gruffer than normal, but it couldn’t be helped. My emotions were all over the place tonight. “I figured you’d want some time with her.”

He patted me on the back and made his way to the nurses’ station where they buzzed him through the double doors. I watched him until the doors closed, then Pop grabbed my shoulder.

“Come take a walk with me,” he said. “Her brother will be with her for a while.”

A part of me was afraid of moving any farther away from her, but the bigger part knew I was on the edge of a breakdown, and I didn’t want that to happen in front of all my friends.

So, I followed Pop as he made his way toward the exit and back into the cold night air. He walked to a bench a few feet away from the entrance and sat down, gesturing for me to take the spot next to him.

Neither of us spoke for a while. Pop had never been the type to fill silence, and right now I was grateful for that because I didn’t have any words that wouldn’t break apart the second I tried to voice them.

The truth was I was scared down to my marrow. I couldn’t recall another time in my life where I’d been scared. But right now, I was terrified. I felt like my own life was in limbo, waiting with bated breath for Sam to decide my fate. If she didn’t survive…

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small flask, unscrewing the top and handing it to me.

“I don’t normally recommend drinking your problems away, but it’s cold and the whiskey will help warm up the blood a bit.”

I took a sip and the warmth spread through my chest. “Thanks,” I choked out.

We sat in silence a little longer—I was convinced I’d gotten my stoicism from Pop—before he spoke again. “You can let it out, you know. It doesn’t make you weak to feel, especially not for the woman you love.”

The dam broke.

I told him everything I could remember about the accident—every minuscule moment I could remember and all the moments I missed.

Pop listened without interrupting. When I finished, I stared at the parking lot and felt the guilt gnaw deeper.

“I should’ve seen it,” I said. “I had a green light but I should’ve looked anyway. I should’ve⁠—”

“Should’ve what?” Pop’s voice was even. “Read the mind of a driver running a red?”

“I read plays all the time. I see things before they happen. That’s what I do.”

“On the ice.”

“Everywhere.” My voice cracked and I hated it. “That’s who I am. I’m the one who always sees it coming. I should’ve seen it and stopped. I should’ve protected her. I was sitting right next to her and I couldn’t—” I stopped because the rest of that sentence was going to take me apart.

Pop was quiet for a moment before he took the flask back from me and took a swig himself.

“When your grandmother got sick,” he said, “I spent every night in a chair just like the ones in there. And every night, I’d lie awake running through everything I should’ve done different. Should’ve made her go to the doctor sooner. Should’ve noticed she was tired before she told me. Should’ve pushed harder when she said she was fine.” He turned the cap between his hands. “I made myself sick with it. Replaying every conversation, every moment, looking for the one where I could’ve caught it and changed what was coming.”

He looked at me. “You know what all that guilt got me?”

I shook my head.

“Nothing. Not a damn thing. It didn’t help her. It didn’t change the outcome. It just ate me alive while she needed me present.” He put the flask back in his pocket. “Your girl is going to wake up. And when she does, she’s going to need you whole—not eaten alive by guilt over something you couldn’t control.”

I stared at the ground. My throat was tight and my eyes were burning again. I didn’t trust myself to speak.

“Your grandmother used to say that the strongest thing a man can do is accept what he can’t change and show up for what he can.” He put his hand on my shoulder, the weight of it heavy, warm, and steady. “You couldn’t stop the accident. But you can be there when she opens her eyes. That’s the play now.”