AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
Corvin looks off to the side, rubbing and scratching at his jaw like a nervous tick. “I mean he was unconscious when they took him back and wouldn’t let me see him because I’m not family.”
“Unconscious?”
“I don’t know if he took something or if he was just really fucking drunk. We got into it, and I was just trying to calm him down, knock him on his ass until I could get a hold of Atlas, because fuck knows he’s the only one capable of handling Shiloh when he gets like that. He fell down one of the hills near the studio where we hold the classes. Hit his head.”
A buzzing starts at the base of my skull, expanding out until all I can hear is a static so loud it invades all my other senses.
He’s fine. Shiloh does reckless shit all the time.
“I should check on him,” I say, just as a nurse comes out and calls “Mr. Novak?”
I can tell the nurse is impatient, likely having dealt with my Dad and his attitude for far too long already, but my feet are planted firmly to the ground.
Maybe Atlas feels my hesitation, or maybe he knows me well enough that I don’t have to stumble my way through an explanation of how out of control I feel. How finding out both my Dad and baby brother are in the hospital chips away at my fragilely put together state of mind. He squeezes my waist and brushes a kiss on my neck.
“I’ve got Shiloh. Go figure things out with your dad.”
“But they said only family—“
“And I’m practically his brother.” Atlas smiles. “Could be brother-in-law. Potato tomato.”
I catch the chuckle just as it comes out, making it more of a choked back snort. “I really should be there.”
“Mr. Novak?” The nurse taps her foot impatiently even as she watches me with her plastered on smile.
“I’ll take care of him, then I’ll come back to sit with Shiloh. Text me if there’s any updates?” My chest hurts. My head is running a million miles a minute.
Atlas nods and turns me to face him. Away from the nurse. Away from the waiting room. Just me and him for a frozen second. He pulls me close and lays his lips on top of mine.
It feels like crawling into bed after a grueling day. It feels like hot chocolate in the morning in the dead of winter. It feels like coming home and falling into a pair of waiting arms and softly whispered words whispered in your ear.
“I love you,” he says the second our lips no longer touch. “Do what you need to. Take care of yourself. Let me carry this one, okay?” Another sweet kiss, and then he’s putting a foot of space between us. “Hurry up before we get a third Novak in the hospital.”
I chuckle, the weight in my chest easing. It’s still there. It still aches. But it’s lighter.
“I love you too,” I mouth as Corvin leads him out and around to the main desk, then turn to follow the indeed very cranky nurse to what’s likely an even crankier old man.
Chapter 26
Blair
For some people, there’s a moment where all of the heartaches in their life come to a head. Where they crash into them and they realize that they’ve been doing everything all wrong and the right path smacks them in the face.
For me? It’s more of a sinking feeling in my chest. Halfway home from the hospital, Dad yelling in the passenger seat, Atlas sends me a picture. He’s sitting with Shiloh beside his hospital bed. Shiloh is still out, covered in scrapes and bruises, and Atlas is holding his hand, giving the camera a sad smile.
Atlas: No change, but they say everything looks good. He’s okay. Just waiting on him to wake up.
In that one room are the two people I love most in this world. Two people that I could never imagine my life without. Even before falling in love with Atlas’ gentle hands and quiet words, he was a staple in my world. Now he’s like permanent ink under my skin.
Lying in bed the way he is, Shiloh almost looks like our mom. He got very little of her Korean features, but peaceful and relaxed the way he is now, I see the pieces of her that I thought I’d never see again: the crinkles under her eyes, her slightly down-turned mouth, even the curve of her nose.
It reminds me of seeing her in that hospital bed fifteen years ago. Brain dead upon impact, they had said, and I was banged up by the car rolling five times, but I’d been saved by my booster seat. They let me sit with her. Let me hold her hand while we waited on Dad to arrive. He’d left Shiloh with a neighbor because he was only four.
And now it’s Shiloh lying there, Atlas holding his hand. And instead of being there I’m driving away.
“Stay,” I had told Dad when I got back to his room. “Let them keep you overnight, and I’ll take you home in the morning. Maybe you can even come down and see your son who they just admitted.”
