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He gets to the door just as someone bangs on it.
“Are you in bed?”Sinclair shouts.“Tell me you’re not still naked.”
Will throws open the door.“What the fuck, Sin?Hi, Daphne.Hey, Em.”
I step into my shoes behind him and grab my purse from the little table in the entryway.“Hi, guys.I was just on my way to the hospital, so—”
“How’s your dad?”Daphne’s dark eyes are both gorgeous and concerned.“Any news on when he’ll be released?”
“No news yet.I’m sure I’ll find out more when I get there.”
Daphne glances between me and Will.“Are you going by yourself?”
“Oh, yeah.It’s no big deal.I probably won’t.”
“No.Absolutely not.I’ll go with you for moral support.”She turns, rises on tiptoe, and kisses Emerson’s cheek.His arm slips around her waist, and he holds her close for a moment.“I’ll text you when we get there and when we leave.Donottext me first.”
“What if there’s an emergency?Or is this still about the art I sent you when you were at Eva’s?”
Daphne blushes.“That wasnotart.”
“Yes, it was.”
“You’re unbelievable, and we’re leaving.Have fun, Will!”She hooks her arm through mine and tugs me out of Will’s apartment to the sound of Sinclair’s belly laughter.
It doesn’t take long to get to the hospital.Evan pulls the SUV into a spot in the secure area of the hospital’s parking garage and jogs around to open the door for us.Evan stays close by my side on the walk to the hospital entrance under clear blue skies.I wish we could stay longer in the sun.I wish we could’ve stayed longer at the beach, but it didn’t turn out that way.
We go inside.
“I hope you don’t mind that I barged in on your visit.”Daphne runs her fingers through her hair, and it falls in elegant waves over her shoulders.“Will texted their group chat after—well, after everything happened.I wanted to call you, but I wasn’t sure if—”
A couple with their toddler lean up to a reception desk on one side of the wide lobby.The gift-shop lady directs a man with boxes piled on a dolly past a rack of cards.A doctor in a white coat heads for the entrance.His eyes catch mine and slide away.
There’s something about him.
I turn around, trying to name the feeling.Uncertainty?
“Bristol?”Daphne puts her hand on my arm.A woman coming in steps back and holds the door open for the doctor, who hurries out onto the sidewalk, his shoulders rounded.Two big paces into the street.He throws his arm up, and a yellow cab cuts out of traffic.The doctor gets in, and the cab blends in with the cars again.“Are you okay?”
I shake off the intense, weird feeling.“Yeah.Yes.I’m good.”
We head out of the lobby.As we pass the hall leading to the emergency department, voices rise.
“Jameson, stop fucking around.You need stitches.”A dark-haired man is holding what looks like a hoodie to another guy’s forehead.“Next time you call me, I’m knocking you out myself before I bring you here.”
“I’m not fucking around, and I don’t—Jesus, Gabriel, don’tpressso hard.I’m injured.”
“You need stitches, asshole.”The first man sings it, kind of, with a little tune.“Are your legs broken?No?Then keep walking before you get any more blood on my shirt.”
“Do you love your shirt more than me?”
“Yes.”
“Seriously.”We get to the elevators.Daphne stands beside me, and Evan pushes the button for the fifth floor, where my dad is.“If there’s any way I can help you, just say the word.”
“I—” The elevator takes us up.“I can do that.It’s just…”
“What is it?”Her expression is open.Kind.Evan looks at the elevator doors with a stoic expression, like he can’t hear us.
