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He furrowed his brow. “I think you had a panic attack and blacked out.”
“For six hours?” I dug through my brain, trying to think back, but it hurt too much.
“You hit your head on concrete.” He sounded angry, though I wasn’t sure if it was at the concrete, or the situation in general, or me.
I turned my head to one side, trying to relieve the pressure from pressing the back into the pillow.
“Are you uncomfortable?” The anger from a moment ago had softened into concern.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Had they given me pain meds or truth serum?
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
We stared at each other a while, the silence a nice companion. I remembered being at the kitchen, how distant and withdrawn he’d become the closer the time came for me to go to jail. But he hadn’t left me. And he was still here.
The only support who had come remotely close to that had been living an ocean away for what seemed like forever. It was odd to have backup when I’d grown so used to shouldering the burden alone.
“What would I have done without you?” Without Lincoln and Beau, Eric would be in some strange place andifI ever regained custody, it could’ve been months or years. While I was still worried about him, at least I knew he was safe and loved.
“I’ve done nothing but be scared.” There was a bitterness, yet openness, in his words.
A vulnerability that clawed at my heart.
“You can sit down.” I gestured to the vacant chair beside the bed with our joined hands, a smile threatening to break free.
“Apparently, when I’m stressed, I stand.” He leaned forward, kissed my forehead with the gentlest touch, and collapsed into the seat.
“It’s really not fair.”
“What’s not?” So serious. Always.
“I’m guessing you haven’t slept in twenty-four hours. And you still look like that.” I made an annoyed face, then hissed. “I think all facial expressions are out for me for a while.” I wanted to smile so badly. “If you ever hit your head, you’re golden.”
And then it happened.
He laughed.
The rare sound that was deep like his voice and full, as if he only did it when he meant it.
“Apologies,” he said when he collected himself. “How can you be so . . . positive right now?”
There was wonder in his tone and a whole lot of respect.
“Everything is a mess.” I tried to roll on my side to face him but got tangled up in some of the thousand wires attached to me. “But look at how amazingly fortunate we are. The good far outweighs the bad.”
Maybe a knock on the head had been exactly what I needed.
Before, I was freaking out and rightfully so. I didn’t do well with the unknown, especially when it concerned my brother.
I’d never thought of the future in terms of weddings and babies and home ownership. It had always been about protection. Making sure we could make it to the next day.
And we had survived to see today.
I didn’t want to go back to jail. Who would? But whatever lay ahead, I had to face it head-on. My father wasn’t going away. Wallowing in a pity party wouldn’t fix anything.
There was no other choice but to beat him at whatever game he played.
“Why are you smiling?” he asked.
