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Chapter one
The Most Ridiculous Things
Amelia
“My mom… they think she—she had a stroke.” I choke out the words into Miles’s chest. Then I yank my head back and look up at him. “I need to get to the hospital.”
“We need to.”
“You don’t have—”
He steps back, cradling my face in his hands as he looks into my eyes. “You’re mine. Mine to love. Mine to protect. Mine to support. Whatever is happening, it’s we. So, let’s go.”
Even though I should be hauling ass to the car to get to the hospital, I can’t. I can’t move. Except to throw myself against his chest and hold him as tight as I can with my stomach in the way.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
“I’m sorry.” I pushed him away all week—longer than that, really—now he’s here, taking care of me without a second thought.
“Not right now.” His voice is calm and gentle. “There will be time for that. Right now, we need to get to the hospital.” He kisses my head, then steps back and shuts off his computer before grabbing his wallet and keys from the top drawer of his desk. He guides me back to my office to grab my purse and makes sure my computer is shut down as well, then he leads me to the elevators.
I’m an absolute wreck. I used to be able to handle things like this on my own, but now? Miles is basically maneuvering me to the car. Guiding me through doorways and making sure I don’t walk into anyone. How did I get this way?
My gut instinct is to say it’s because I’ve let someone take care of me for too long and that has stolen my independence, but I shut that thought down. No. I’m not weak. I’m finally safe and supported enough to not have to deal with hard things alone. I don’t have to push myself to the breaking point to survive anymore. I did that for so long, and it’s why I’m falling apart now.
Though it’s hard to push past those feelings, it’s easy to lean on Miles. When I do, I feel sparks of relief shooting through me, like they’re rushing to heal the cracks that have formed in my heart and soul.
When we get to his car, I wrap my arms around him again, desperate for his warmth and the safety of his arms.
“I’ve got you.” He kisses the side of my head, then helps me into the car and buckles me up. Sometimes that bossy protective thing drives me crazy. I can buckle my own seatbelt. But right now, it’s comforting to let him care for me.
When he shuts my car door, I close my eyes and let out a long breath, tears trickling down my cheeks.
They think she had a stroke.
They couldn’t give me much information other than she was unconscious. I’m not sure if she was still unconscious or only was for a bit. The nurse sounded inexperienced which left me more stressed. All the more reason we need to get to the hospital so I can find out what’s happening.
My stomach flips at the thought. What if I get there and they tell me—
“What if she dies?” I mutter, opening my eyes and looking at Miles.
He’s focused on the road ahead of him, but he says, “Let’s not go to that place. But if that happens… Fuck, Ames. I don’t know what to say. I know this is scary, and I can’t make any promises about what will happen or find words to make you feel better. All I can do is tell you I’ll be right by your side. No matter what happens, I’ll be there with you.”
I reach over and rest my hand on his thigh. I know he’ll be right at my side. Words he said months ago flit through my mind. After he told his friends I was pregnant, I asked him what would happen if I miscarried. My other hand drops to my stomach, the mere thought is too much right now. He told me if I did, we’d have the best support system in the world. I know that’s true now. We can’t control the painful things in life. All we can do is face them. I told him that, then promptly ignored it when I needed it most. All I’ve done lately is try to avoid painful feelings. It’s hurt me more in the long run.
I have to get my shit together.
Or maybe I need to fall the hell apart before I can pick up the pieces again.
Either way, I have to get through today and whatever it brings first.
When we get to the hospital, Miles parks close and leads me into the building, being my rock.
“Can I help you?” the woman at the desk asks when we walk into the emergency area.
“I’m looking for my mother, Eileen Davis. She came in from Sunrise Nursing Center.”
