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But we are.
“Yeah, you want to punch me, try it,” Wyatt sneers, flexing his fingers. “It wouldn’t be the first time you lost.”
“That wasn’t losing, that was giving you practice,” I snarl.
Then I explode.
Nostrils flaring, red blurring my vision, I charge my brother, grabbing a fistful of his T-shirt. My fist jerks back, and I hold him tight, inches from me. Sadness and rage scream for me to beat the hell out of him.
But I can’t. It’s not him I’m pissed at.
I’m pissed at myself, at DVL, at everything that’s happened.
My hand bobs in the air.
Before I can let him loose, Wyatt slams a fist in my stomach. No hesitation.
The air leaves my lungs. I stumble, doubling over, then find my balance.
“Cheap ass punch,” I say through gritted teeth.
Wyatt scoffs. “If I have to beat your grumpy ass to wake you the fuck up, so be it.”
He stares at me and I stare at him, tension breaking between us.
Wyatt walks away from me, taking shallow breaths, then he turns and says, “Maggie’s dead, you know, but you’re not. And neither is Ruby.”
I flinch, his words like a knife in my jugular.
A hiss from Ford. “You’re actin’ like a dickhead, Wyatt.”
“Someone’s gotta say it,” he snaps back.
I shove my hands through my hair, scrape them down my beard. “She deserves someone else.” Admitting it out loud rips my heart in half. Hot tears sting my eyes. “I never should have—”
“What, loved her?” Wyatt cuts in. “Charlie, this girl woke you up.” Eyes red, Wyatt shakes his head. Raw emotion crosses his face. “She deserves you. You fought for her, man. You worked on her for over twenty minutes. She has a pulse, she’s breathing, because of you.”
I freeze to the spot. Unable to breathe. Unable to think. Hope and hopelessness war within me. I’ve been so afraid of loving again that I waited to take that risk, to admit how I felt about Ruby. I almost lost her once. I could lose her now. But if I had to do it all over again—I would.
In a fucking heartbeat.
My eyes move to the sun rising in the east, momentarily robbing me of breath. Bright, brilliant gold. Pops of purples and pinks. As bright as my sunflower girl.
Ruby would love it.
I need to get back there. I need to stay strong for her. I won’t help her by crumbling.
I exhale and turn to Wyatt. “You’re right.”
“I always goddamn am.” He flashes a cocky half-smile. Because that’s Wyatt. My younger brother never lets me off the hook, has followed my ass halfway around the world to keep me from losing my shit, and for that I’m fucking grateful.
“Wyatt, shut up,” Ford orders. “Charlie, get your head on straight.” Then, in a low voice, he says, “The doctor’s here.”
The doctor stands in the waiting room, surrounded by Ruby’s father and brother, who talk in low tones. I recognize the resemblance. Ruby’s father and brother share her bright blue eyes. They have the same fierce, stubborn lift of her chin.
With Ford and Wyatt flanking me, I don’t slow my stride, and when the doctor looks at me, a knot of tension loosens in my chest.
Damn straight, he looks at me.
