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I tugged open the curtains hanging over the high window in my father’s room, letting the sunlight pour in.
“Morning, Daddy,” I said, a little too loudly as I turned to the double bed taking up almost the entire room. Buffy was nowhere in sight, but that wasn’t unusual. She had her own cat door and roamed the property at her will. She always came back home, though. I kept a special tag on her collar, which tracked her by GPS, just in case she ever got lost. Call me paranoid, but I’d been through a lot with her by my side and losing her somehow was one of my worst fears.
I’d showered and changed already, and felt slightly better than last night. I decided there was no reason to let Callen, of all people, get to me. I’d dealt with worse before and he sure as hell wasn’t worth it.
Daddy’s bushy brows drew together as he glared at me with sleepy, red-rimmed eyes. He wasn’t a morning person no matter how early I got him into bed at night.
I smiled, hoping to cheer him up a bit. “You ready to get up?”
He let out a huff of air through his nose and jerked his chin slightly to the right. No, he wasn’t.
I clicked my tongue and reached for his blanket. I threw it off of his body and he glowered at me.
“That’s a shame.” I shrugged, ignoring his grumpy glares. “Because you know we have PT this morning. Gotta get up and at ’em!”
I had a feeling he was silently cursing me as I grabbed the belt from the hook next to his bed and secured it around his waist. His wheelchair sat folded in the far corner and I retrieved it, maneuvering it carefully so it was open and waiting as close to the bed as possible. There wasn’t much room, so it was difficult, but we’d gotten the hang of it. It’d been over two years since my father had a massive stroke that left him extremely debilitated.
“All right, let’s get you up.” I leaned over him, and he used his good arm to push himself up. Working as a rehearsed team, Daddy used what strength he had on his good side and I helped with everything else as we got him into his chair.
It barely took any time at all anymore.
During the first weeks after his stroke, there was little hope that he’d even pull through to come back home. But eventually, he had. Even though it was hard for me to see him like he was now; weak, and basically non-verbal—I still had him. At least he was still with me.
That was all that mattered.
An hour later, I had gotten Daddy washed and ready for the day. He had physical therapy twice a week. It was routine for me to hunker down in the waiting room with one of my favorite romance novels while he had his appointment. To be honest, it was one of my favorite times of the week. I could sit back and completely relax, even if it was in a stiff waiting room chair.
We’d been at the office a while, and I had my knees pulled up to my chest, my book balancing on top of them as I read. It was getting to a really good part and I was completely engrossed. Everything faded into the background as I was sucked deep into the story. I was only vaguely aware of the sliding glass door opening as another patient came in. A gust of air fluttered my hair around my face and I tucked some behind my ear as I leaned my nose closer to the pages.
“Ellie?”
His voice made my blood turn cold. I didn’t look up, not right away, as my brain processed the sound. It was a voice I knew better than my own. A voice I would recognize anywhere. But it couldn’t be him. It couldn’t. He hadn’t set foot in Cypress Falls in years.
Slowly, my gaze lifted from the book that suddenly no longer interested me. My heart constricted as I met those deep, bright hazel eyes I would know from a damn mile away.
He looked different than he had last time I’d seen him. He was broader, his chest muscular and straining against the fitted, heathered gray shirt. His nose had a slight bump in the middle, as if he’d broken it a few times. He also had a short beard. It didn’t look bad on him, but it was different. Same with his hair. It was cut short, no sign of his signature ringlets falling over his forehead.
The book slipped from my fingers, flopping onto the tiled floor with a dull smack.
Tyson Ranes blinked down at me, a crease forming between his brows. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out as my whole world tipped. Queasiness erupted within me, but so did something else. It fluttered in my gut as he tilted his head to the side. His gaze roamed over me.
Three years. It had been three years since I’d seen Ty, the person I once considered my best friend. I’d once trusted him more than myself. The person who left me without so much as a goodbye.
“Miss Liles? We’re done for today.” The sound of my name from the other end of the room broke my trance. I jumped to my feet, turning to face the PTA who had wheeled my father into the waiting room. I wondered how long she’d been standing there. She was looking at me with her lips in a tight line.
I glanced back at Ty. His body was tense as his gaze bounced between my father and me. He hadn’t known then. The shock on his face said as much. He took a step toward me, but I bolted.
I ran to my father, hastily taking his wheelchair from the physical therapy assistant. “Thanks, Clara. I’ll see you next time,” I mumbled, avoiding her gaze.
I didn’t look back at Ty as I pushed my father across the room and out the front door. He didn’t call to stop me, either.
Tyson Ranes was back in Cypress Falls. I had no idea what that meant, but I knew one thing: I was going to stay as far away from him as this small, close-knit town would allow.
