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CHARLIE’S SURGERY WENTbetter than expected, but with his extensive hospital stay, all three of us were exhausted. One of us was always there with him which made alone time with Sterling rare, but when Ollie and I switched off and we finally had a little bit of time to ourselves, Sterling looked tense — almost as tense as he had the day Charlie fell and I had no clue how to help him.
He was pacing with a drink in hand, and I approached him warily for a kiss. “Did you nap at all?”
“No. I’ve been calling around trying to find someone to come install ramps and a lift chair and shit like that and no one can help until next month. What the fuck is the point of being rich?”
The glass in his hand shattered. I gasped, grabbing a towel for his hand as quickly as I could and dropping down to clean up the shards. I gave up after a moment and stared up at him, worry etched into every inch of my expression. “Baby, how can I help you? Please let me help.”
“I—” his chest heaved as he stared down at me on my knees, pupils blowing and demeanor changing almost instantly. “Zeppelin, what I need ... involves a very long conversation. We don’t have to do this now. We shouldn’t do this now.”
I could see what he needed, whether he would end up giving in to it or not was another matter, but with how he was staring down at me, I had a feeling he knew how badly he needed it to. “You can’t do anything else for him right now.” I took his hand, placing it against my cheek as I kept my gaze locked with his. “I’m right here. Tell me what you need.”
