By the time the plane touched down in San Antonio just before sunrise, I'd locked up all of my feelings about X, and what happened between us. I grieved over Father O'Toole, and then put his death at the back of my mind. I cared for him but hadn't been close enough for my sorrow to impede my caring for my family.
I'd already washed my face and brushed out my hair so that, while my eyes were red, my skin blotchy, I, at least, wasn't a total mess when I walked off the plane. As promised, a town car was waiting.
What I hadn't expected was the man standing next to it. Dark hair, green eyes, and an almost-perfect face. Tanner Boswell. Talented, rich, and my ex-boyfriend.
He took two steps toward me, and that was enough for me to run the last few feet and throw myself into his arms. I pressed my face against his chest and suppressed the urge to burst into tears again. There was nothing sexual about the way he wrapped his arms around me, or even the soothing noises he made. Above all, he'd always been my friend first, and this time was no different.
We didn't stand there long, but it was enough for me to gain strength from him and be able to get into the car without any assistance. Only once he was settled in next to me did Tanner actually speak.
“The doctors still won't tell me much,” he said. “But I was able to get a few things out of them.”
Instinctively, I reached for his hand, and he wrapped his fingers around mine. There was no spark between us, only the warmth of friendship.
“Your father's already in a private room. I don't know anything about his injuries, but they did say that he's awake and responding to questions, which I'm guessing means he should be okay.”
I nodded. The chance of complications was always there, but it was encouraging so far.
“Your mom's in surgery.”
My entire body went cold, and only the increased pressure of Tanner's fingers around mine kept me listening to him.
“I managed to get a nurse to tell me that it was to set a broken bone. She wouldn't give me any other details, but said that it wasn't life-threatening.”
I nodded numbly. Okay. That wasn't great, but the doctors wouldn't have put her under for something like that unless she was stable.
“She should probably be out by the time we get back to the hospital.”
“Which hospital?” I finally thought to ask.
“The medical center,” Tanner confirmed. “I haven't heard an official report, but based on where the accident happened, and the fact that your parents were in the same car, I'm guessing your mom had been picking up your dad at a bar.”
I closed my eyes, guilt washing over me. If I'd been here, I would've picked him up and this never would've happened.
“Don't.” Tanner's voice was firm. “Don't do that.”
“Do what?” I asked without opening my eyes.
“Don't blame yourself for this. Your parents are adults,” he said. “If you'd have been here, it might be you and your father in the hospital.”
“Or I wouldn't have gotten into the accident in the first place,” I countered, opening my eyes to look at Tanner.
He shook his head. “I went to school with one of the patrolmen who was at the scene. Some guy ran a red light. Idiot was texting his girlfriend. He's the only one to blame.”
I didn't respond. We would never agree on this. No matter what Tanner said, I knew that things would've been different if I'd been here.
Neither of us spoke again until we arrived at the hospital, but Tanner kept hold of my hand, so I knew he wasn't mad. I was so grateful that he was here, and that I wasn't having to go through this alone. I was also glad I'd told him how I felt before he left so that there weren't any misunderstandings between us. I could trust him completely not to take anything the wrong way, and not to take advantage.
A part of me even wished that I still felt something more than friendship toward Tanner. It would've made things so much simpler.
When we reached the information desk, he stayed at my side while I asked for room numbers and updates. After a couple minutes, I was told that my mother was in recovery and that visiting hours hadn't yet started. Before I could say anything, Tanner stepped in and, less than fifteen minutes later, we were on our way to my father's room.
Dad was awake when we arrived, and it was all I could do not to start crying when I walked in. His face was covered with cuts and scrapes. One arm was strapped to his chest and two fingers on his other hand were in splints. The look he gave me was both embarrassed and sober.
“Hey there,” he said. His voice was rough, and I wondered if they'd pumped his stomach to get rid of the alcohol he'd consumed.
I didn't care about that at the moment though, only that he was okay. I gave him a wobbly smile and went to his side. “I'd squeeze your hand, but it doesn't look like that's a good idea.”