“He’s no going to make it, is he?” I forced myself to ask, my lower lip trembling.
“I don’t think so,” Trace’s voice cracked and tears began to spill from his eyes. He looked up at the ceiling, clearly hating that I was seeing him break down like this.
I found myself stepping forward that last little bit and wrapping my arms around his torso. My ear was pressed against his chest where I could hear his heart racing with panic and anger at the thought of losing his brother. My tears soaked the fabric of his shirt as he lifted his arms to wrap them around me.
“This hurts so bad,” I confessed, my voice thick from my tears. I sniffled, trying to hold them back, but it was pointless.
“I know it does,” his voice shook. “I almost lost Olivia once, so I know exactly how you feel right now, and it’s the worst feeling in the whole world.”
I hadn’t known that, but now wasn’t the time to ask questions about Olivia and his past. Right now, our focus needed to be on Trent.
“I fucking hate this hospital,” Trace groaned, his voice muffled by my hair.
“Why?” I asked.
“This is where they brought Olivia, then Gramps passed…although, the stubborn old man made them release him so he could die at home,” I felt Trace crack a small smile but it quickly crumbled, “and now Trent’s here, fighting for his life. If it wasn’t for the fact that Dean was born here,” he said, pulling away and I let my arms drop to my sides, “this place would only hold bad memories for me.”
“Your family has really bad luck,” I remarked, trying to bring some light to the situation, but it was pointless. I knew we both felt like falling apart.
“Yeah, something like that,” he muttered, glaring at the tiled floor.
We stood there a few moments longer before joining his mom and the kids in the waiting room. I felt like I didn’t deserve to be there. After what I had done they should’ve hated me, not embraced me like family.
Tristan sat on Lily’s lap and she talked to him, forcing a smile here and there for his benefit.
I settled into the uncomfortable plastic chair, figuring we’d be waiting awhile before we knew anything.
Trace took the seat beside me, resting his elbows on his knees with his head in his hands.
Ivy was seated in the other chair next to me and laid her head on my shoulder.
“It’ll be okay, Row,” she looked up at me with innocent hazel eyes, “love conquers anything, right? Even death?”
God, I wished that was true.
I nodded for her benefit as I leaned my head back against the wall and closed my eyes. If I slept, maybe I could convince myself that this was all merely a nightmare.
Hours later, with no sleep, a doctor finally appeared in the doorway.
“He’s awake now…if you’d like to see him.”
The hesitation his voice destroyed what hope was left inside me. His tone said, you might want to say your goodbyes now.
“Mom and I will go first,” Trace whispered, grasping the chair arms and using it to heave himself to his feet. He stretched his arms above his head, cracking his back. He reached for his mom, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as they followed the doctor.
Tristan crawled into my lap, burrowing his head under my neck. “What’s going on, mommy?” He asked, lovingly stroking my hair. Even at five years old he could sense the tension in my body and was trying to relieve it.
“Trent—your dad—has been hurt,” I whispered. It pained me to say those words.
“Is he going to be okay? Can I say hi?” Tristan looked up at me with wide eyes.
“I don’t know,” I answered, kissing the top of his head, his hair soft against my lips.
I wrapped my arms tightly around him, closing my eyes as I rested my head on top of his. All my regrets were piling on top of me in this moment and I felt like I was suffocating. Because of what I had done, Trent had missed out on being a part of Tristan’s life, and now Tristan might never get to know his dad.
I had been horrible and selfish to make the decision I did without telling Trent. I had been so young and stupid. Now, I was suffering the consequences.
I should have been the one in there fighting for my life, not Trent.
I didn’t want to lose him.
Even if he didn’t belong to me, and I’d have to watch him love someone else eventually, I’d rather deal with that pain than this.
I hummed under my breath, rocking Tristan in my arms.
Tristan took a piece of my hair and twisted it around his finger. “It will be okay, mommy,” he whispered in his sweet voice.
“I hope so.” I felt tears sting my eyes once more. I didn’t know how someone could keep crying like this. Eventually you had to run out of tears, right?